100 Ways to Feel
by skimmingsurfaces
Summary: 100 prompts centering around emotions with Pinky and the Brain thrown into the mix. Mostly slash, mentions of OC characters, and all manner of fluff, angst, and h/c.
1. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

**The Emotions List**  
1. Birth (319)

Romy hadn't been born. Neither had the twins. Cici hadn't been born to them, and while he desperately wished she had been, he wouldn't have wanted her any other way and he had some of her other family to thank for that. The triplets had been born, but he hadn't gotten to see them be born, they were already there by the time he got downstairs to the basement.

So Pinky bounced on his tippy-toes with excitement, flitted across the room in random spurts, giggles of overwhelmed joy poured from him when Cici told him (no, she asked him) to be with her when his grandbaby was born. A grandbaby all his very own! And Brain's too. Their grandbaby.

All his bouncing had Colby very nervous, the funny yellow scowly mouse drumming his fingers on his arm as he leaned against the wall closest to his wife in the dark little room. Pinky laughed and tried to cheer him up, but that only made him more nervous and snappish. So Pinky sat on the other side of his baby snow mouse, held her hand and told her stories about when she really was a baby until it was time to be quiet.

He didn't get to hold the baby first, that was a mummy's job. Then a daddy's. Then Brain's because Brain was a smarty and had to make sure the baby mousey mouse was a healthy one. But Pinky got to hold him fourth, and that was very important because he could count to four and he liked being as high as he could count. Especially when it came to holding the little squeaky Jack-in-the-Box.

"Happy Birthday," he cooed, nuzzling Jack's soft little head, feeling the warmth in his heart grow even bigger when his chubby hubby wrapped an arm around his waist and watched him hold the baby not as a smarty mouse, but as a grandpa.

2. Enthusiasm (515)

"You win, my dear." Brain's lips quirked up slightly, gazing down at his upside-down husband who still couldn't stop laughing. The rules of the game had been beyond him, as usual when it came to things of Pinky's creation, but what mattered was that his smile was back and those gorgeous blue eyes were dazzling. Sometimes the plans made him forget how dazzling his lover was, but he always had the games to bring his spirits back.

"Hoorah!" Pinky chirped, limbs flailing. He smiled broadly at him, and it was no less beautiful upside-down than it was rightside-up. "What do I win, Brain?"

He reached down and stroked a smooth, warm cheek. "What would you like to win?"

"Umm... poit." Sticking his tongue out, brow furrowed in not oft seen concentration, Pinky hummed thoughtfully and wiggled about as Brain's hand moved lower, scritching under his chin. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh, I know, Brain!" He raised his hand eagerly, as if waiting to be called on in class.

Brain flicked his nose. "Yes?"

"A hug." He nodded decisively, it could almost pass for seriously were it not Pinky.

Pink eyes blinked in surprise, he'd been preparing himself for the worst (or best... depending on how one looked at it) and had even mentally checked that their three-in-one oil was where they'd left it last. But only a hug? Pinky gave those freely on an hourly basis. A hug was nothing special. "Are you certain that's all you want?"

The taller mouse nodded, much more excited now, his blue eyes sparkling again. "Oh, yes! Very certain! _Narf! _ And sure too!"

Flicking his nose again, Brain sighed and moved back enough so that Pinky had room to sit up like a normal person. "Alright then, Pinky. A hug you shall receive." His husband really was the most peculiar of creatures. He waited with his arms crossed and eyes closed, but nothing happened. Opening one eye, he observed his eager husband who waited with bated breath, his eyes wider than he thought was possible and his tail quivering in anticipation. Brain scowled, impatiently pushing back the urge to coo at his nitwit of a spouse. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Both eyes opened now and were glaring at him. "You said you wanted a hug."

"I do! But you're not hugging me," Pinky replied, confused by his chubby hubby's confusion.

One of Brain's ears went up while the other flattened. "What?"

"I want a hug from you as my prize. Troz. So that means you have to be the one to hug me," the lanky mouse elaborated, clasping his hands together in his lap. "Not that I don't love hugging you, Brain, it's just that I always hug you, so that wouldn't be a very special prize, now would it?"

Oh. Oh, he needed to give Pinky more credit sometimes. Crossing the space between them, Brain gathered as much of Pinky in his arms as he could managed, burying his face in the soft fur of his neck as his lover squeaked with delight, burrowing and squirming and nuzzling deeper into the embrace.

3. Love (351)

"I love you!" A little Pinky chirped to a little Brain as they worked on a little plan to take over a not so little world. He was his family. Brain brushed him off.

"I love you!" Pinky, now considerably taller than his cagemate, cheered after being gifted with the peel of an orange that still had some of the stringy stuff on it. He was his friend. Brain rolled his eyes.

"I love you," Pinky told Brain as he watched him watch the stars, sad that another one of his brilliant plans had failed. He was his bestest friend, and bestest friends shouldn't be sad. Brain ignored him.

"I love you." Pinky realized, while a bandaged Brain fussed with the gauze he was attempting to wrap around the taller mouse's injuries, injuries that would have been more serious if the plan had continued. Pinky didn't know that Pinky would've been dead, but Pinky didn't particularly care because he loved Brain. Brain didn't hear him, Pinky didn't say it out loud.

"I love you." Pinky hoped he was loved too as he stared at the back of the chubby round chubby head he held so dear to his heart. He was the love of his life. Brain didn't turn around, Pinky didn't sleep that night.

"I still love you," Pinky said to Brain the next day. Because he did, even though it hurt. Brain held his hand.

"I still love you," Pinky assured Brain as they curled up against one another in bed, tears long since dry and hearts healed from silly fights. Brain held him close all night.

"I love you!" Pinky kissed Brain, several times, fast and excited because they were married and he couldn't believe it so he had to keep kissing him because he could believe in kisses. He was his husband. Brain cupped his cheeks and gave him his own kiss, long and deep and wonderful.

"I love you," Brain promised Pinky as the taller mouse slumbered, cheek pillowed on his shoulder and quiet, sleepy breath fanning his fur. He was perfect. Pinky smiled all night.

4. Hate (786)

"I hate you! You're the worst teacher ever! I hate you!"

A little girl fled in tears, leaving behind two very baffled mice. Pinky wrung his tail between his hands, nervously flicking his gaze between his cagemate and the child they were raising. Trying to raise. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel; hate was such a bad word and only bad mice felt it, but she'd been crying as she'd said it and it sounded like she was hurting a whole lot inside. He knew all too well how sometimes mean things came out during big upsets. Brain did it all the time.

"Egad, Brain, you made her sad," Pinky observed, not blaming or pointing fingers. Just observing.

But the megalomaniacal mouse rounded on his taller companion, gesturing angrily. "This is all your influence, Pinky!" he accused, his frustration with the child still mounting. "Your emotional instability is infecting her!"

Blue eyes blinked blankly. "But I didn't-"

"A child with sense wouldn't allow herself to be ruled by her emotions! She'd learn to take criticism with a clear head!" He smacked the sheet of paper he held in his hand full of all the wrong answers. "She's better than this!"

"But Brain-"

"It's as if she isn't even _trying_, Pinky!"

"She was though," Pinky quickly interjected before Brain could utter another syllable, his hand raised in the air as he stood on his tip-toes as if that would make a difference in whether or not Brain would let him speak. "Poit. She tried all morning, Brain. You saw her."

The break in his rant left his heart racing and his ears flattened. It was true. Cici had spent hours trying to do her homework, rereading her textbook and notes, asking Brain for more help when he was clearly busy-

"_You're the worst teacher ever"_

He swallowed thickly, rubbing his fist over his heart. "Well, I... may have exaggerated some..."

"And you did say some awfully mean things to her," Pinky added. "She's smart, Brain, but she's still learning. You can't expect her to learn everything all at once. _Zort._ Why, I'd think her head would just explode if you tried to put all sorts of stuff in it all at once!" With his hands he squished down parts of his head. "Very painful."

Brain stared at his companion for a moment, the elasticity of his skull no surprise, then shifted his gaze to the paper in his hand. He'd scribbled red marks all over it. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead, glaring at the homework as if it was its fault his baby had run off angry and hurt and surely feeling... inadequate. "Egad, Pinky..." he murmured, crumpling the sheet. "I called her inadequate."

"You called her lots of things, Brain." Pinky remembered; he hadn't understood most of the words, but he knew his friend had implied that she was not the smarty they both knew her to be. "And you said it the way you say things when I do something wrong or mess up a plan. Troz. And while I don't mind, I don't think you're supposed to talk to babies that way. Even really smart ones."

No, one shouldn't. Brain rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye, already feeling the signs of a headache behind them. She'd been trying and trying and getting nowhere and it had been the most frustrating thing to watch because she _was_ capable and she _deserved _to get the right answers and it was _all _she'd wanted... And suddenly it hadn't been her or her homework, but a painful reminder of how he'd yet to succeed in his own goal. And he'd taken it out on her.

"_Why can't you do this?! It's not that hard. Pinky could even do it!"_

"_I'm sorry..."_

"'_Sorry' won't get you the right answers. This is completely unacceptable, Cerebral Cortex. How can you possibly get through life if you can't even add properly?"_

There were certainly better ways to talk to children. Ways that didn't make them hate you. Brain couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat. Carefully folding the homework assignment, with every intention of properly going through and picking out the specific problem areas so he could better explain them to his daughter, he pocketed it and looked to Pinky.

"I hope you have plenty of get-better kisses in you," he told his friend, latching onto his wrist and comforted himself with the steady beat of his pulse. "Our child is going to need them."

"Aye aye, Brain!" Pinky saluted, then pulled out a stack of Care Bear bandaids from nowhere. "And bandaids!"

"And bandaids," he monotoned, then gave his hand a pat. "Brilliant, Pinky."

5. Triumph (467)

It was odd to feel envious of his own hands. But as he watched several pairs of them rove over his husband's body, he ground his teeth together and clenched the pair of hands that belonged to himself into tight fists while he felt his face flush with rage. He was his, his, his, his, _his_! No one, not even himself, had a right to touch what was his!

Brain growled and smacked his palm to his forehead, pressing the heel of it deep into his creased brow. While most of the copies of himself were still arguing over who had the right to claim Pinky as a partner, more than ten of them had taken to... more seductive means of persuading his simple-minded husband into assisting them. He couldn't even be humiliated by the lengths his copies went to, how desperately they threw themselves at him, he was far too jealous to even mind how he was essentially debasing himself.

Were it not for the hundreds of hims in his way, shouting and arguing and being far too defiant, he would've stormed over and shown all of them just _who_ Pinky belonged to. But his blood could only boil, rapidly increasing as those other hims pinned his husband down. Two held his arms as they lapped at the soft pink of his ears, another pressed behind him and ran his hands all over his chest. One massaged that secret, sensitive spot on the back of his knee and was mimicked by another on the opposite leg. Then the was the one pressing kisses to his stomach - his treacherous hand was the worst of all - sliding down, down, down...

"Look at me, Pinky."

"Yes, that's good, my dear."

"Relax, let me take care of you."

"You're so beautiful."

"Come, Pinky."

Brain gripped his ears and tugged hard, growling loudly. This was ridiculous! The absolute worst plan ever! He was getting rid of these demons once and for all! Manipulating his husband like that. Of course he wouldn't have the mind to pull away from them, they were him! He probably didn't even know which one was-

"Stop it! No, stop! Brain? Brain!" Pinky squirmed and struggled, trying to get away rather than give in. He managed to crane his neck back, just enough so that their eyes could meet. And Pinky knew him. "Brain, get them off!"

Most of the Brains in the room were quite displeased by the acute rejection. But the one that mattered couldn't help but smirk to himself as he proceeded to delete them all from existence, rubbing his palms together and resolved to reward Pinky for his steadfast faithfulness long into the night. His own two hands needed to erase any marks or touches those fakes dared to leave behind.

* * *

As I'm sure some of you have seen, StarShineDC has been working on her 100 Pieces of Life as of late and they are simply marvelous!

And I've been working on mine! Hoorah! I don't have the discipline she possesses though xDDDDD I ramble far too long in mine, as I'm sure you can already tell. And I'm nowhere near as fast as she is o.O She's almost done with her second round xD But she's all the amazing, so there.

These will range from the OCverse she and I have created to just PatB (both established relationship and not), so I hope you enjoy!

Up next: Feel, Wrecked, Soft, Cold, Without


	2. 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

6. Feel (485)

One morning, Pinky woke up and loved Brain.

At least that's what it felt like. He couldn't remember the progression, if there'd been any, and he wasn't quite sure he'd fallen in love. It didn't feel like he'd fell. It was more like he finally understood the picture a puzzle made. Like he'd put the puzzle together a really long time ago and just never knew what it was. Then, when he woke up that day (and he'd circled it on the calendar), he knew.

It felt very normal at first, when he opened his eyes and found himself staring at Brain's sleeping face in the morning. The thought came unbidden. _I love you._ And for a whole fifteen minutes he didn't even have the urge to move. He only smiled and stared and loved.

Then it got scary. It was a rather silly thing to be scared of. Love was a many splendid thing! But his insides twisted and he bolted from the bed as if it burned him and he stayed on the opposite end of the cage from Brain all day. If he'd fallen in love, he could understand it being scary. Sometimes falling was scary and not so fun, but he hadn't fallen into it. He just loved. And he loved so much, he didn't understand how Brain didn't see it all trying to burst out of him like too much stuffing in a doll.

Then it hurt. Brain didn't notice that he was acting differently at all! Or if he did, then he just didn't say anything. Which hurt more. Like he was being ignored. Like Brain didn't care about all the love he had to give him, the love that was just there. Looking at him, just looking, he could see it all. Not necessarily each individual reason why he loved him... just that he loved him. It was just him.

Then he felt silly. Of course Brain wouldn't know that he loved him. He hadn't told him! He couldn't feel hurt that he didn't know because he couldn't know! And of course he was scared, it was a scary thing to tell someone your deepest heart's secret. And of course it was normal. He'd always loved him, even if he hadn't known it. Nothing had changed really. Brain was still Brain and Pinky was still Pinky.

Then he felt so happy, so joyful, that he couldn't possibly contain himself anymore! "Brain, I-!"

"_Yes_! Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"I think so, Brain, but wouldn't we need to made out of Mylar to keep all the happy bubbles inside us for always?"

"No, Pinky..."

Nothing had changed really. And it didn't have to.

Except that every morning after, Pinky woke up and loved Brain.

But he didn't mind that change at all, and only hoped he'd remember to tell him so they could share it together someday.

7. Wrecked (340)

"Brain?"

He hadn't popped back up with his scowly-scowl face and grumpy-growly voice (or crawled up or stumbled up or yelled up) and while it had been fun at first (like hide and seek or tag or go fish), the longer he waited, the tighter his chest got and the slower his heart beat.

"Brain?" Pinky crept to the edge of the chasm in the cave floor. The happy ice cream cone rocks that didn't know if they wanted to be rightside-up or upside-down had been awfully tasty and smiley looking only minutes before. But now instead of sugary desserts and lollipops, all he could see were sharp teeth in a dark mouth and the cavern was now its throat and had swallowed his husband down, down, down...

"Brain?" There was another voice calling for his husband. It was broken and weak and scared and full of knowing something that his own mind just couldn't quite comprehend. It didn't understand. "Brain! Brain, let's go home!"

But there was no answer. Just the hollow echo of a voice Pinky realized was actually his own.

"Love? Baby, please... I want to go home now..." he whispered so the bouncing of his voice didn't come back to fill his gut with rocks just like this whole place was rocks. Rocks were part of the plan, Pinky. Always the plan, Pinky. Why can't you ever pay attention, Pinky? Didn't you see me fall through the hole, Pinky? Didn't you see me fall?

"Brain, please come up. Come up, come up, please." His hands were shaking so he clasped them together and made his whole body shake. "Come up, Brain. Brain. Brain! _Brain_!"

Little drops of melted ice cream rock fell from the rock cones into the dark throat, clinking and clattering all the way down. Down, down, down... Pinky undid the lacing of his fingers and dug them into the ground, holding his place as he lowered his body over the edge. If Brain wouldn't come up, then he'd just have to go down.

8. Soft (314)

Brain said he hated it when Pinky got all a mess. When his fur was stained or sticky or all a-tangle, it made Brain scowly and he'd order him to take a bath immediately (lest he get the mess on his own immaculate fur). Ever obedient, Pinky would go and sometimes Brain would come with him. He wouldn't get in the bath, but he'd sit on the edge of the sink and sometimes help work the suds into his fur and get all the tanglies out.

Then he'd bring him a towel and wouldn't let him dry off the way he liked to, but it was okay because he liked the way Brain dried him even better. He'd rub him all over and make him puffy and fluffy and, if he was in a really good mood, he'd tickle him a whole bunch.

Once he was a happy, clean, dry, fluffy marshmallow, Brain would have him sit at his feet. With a little toy hairbrush, he'd gently brush the mass of fur back into it's sleek, smooth state. Brain was the best hair brusher. He didn't tug too hard or dig in too deep. He always trailed his fingers through the patches of fur he'd brush, before and after. All the lovely petting was glorious, and he knew Brain thought so too. Even if he couldn't see it, he could feel the smaller mouse smiling inside.

"There. Back to your ridiculously soft self," he'd say as he set down the brush and dust his hands off nonchalantly, even though Pinky's fur was clean and couldn't have gotten his hands dirty. "Now come. Let us prepare for tonight."

Brain said he hated it when Pinky got all a mess, but he hated it even more when he stayed clean the whole night and didn't have an excuse to brush and touch his fur all over.

9. Cold (771)

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Brain grit his teeth, hard, to keep them from chattering as he glared at the four, impenetrable walls that surrounded them. They weren't supposed to get locked in. This wasn't part of the plan. In and out, that's all it had needed to be. In and out, grab what they needed and go. Take over the world, yes, they were supposed to be taking over the world. They could do it still. Just needed to get out. Find a way out. Drill a hole through the impenetrable walls and-

"Brain? I'm cold…"

The megalomaniac turned around. His husband sat shivering on the floor, hugging himself tightly, his knees tucked under the dress he'd wanted so badly to wear. It was the blue dress that matched his blue eyes and now his blue fur. He'd even managed to squeeze his arms inside of it, instinct persuading him to conserve as much heat as possible.

He hadn't realized Pinky had stopped playing, stopped moving, stopped generating his own heat. Brain had been pacing, his mind whirring as he concocted various means of escape, while his carefree lover had been enjoying himself. Frolicking about in the freezer, making frost angels, eating the frozen food and… he'd been eating the frozen food.

Oh… oh, no.

"Pinky…" His attempt to hide his fear failed, the crack in his voice telling as he stumbled to the corner his husband (accidentally, accidentally) chose to shiver in. He couldn't scare him though, no, no, he wouldn't scare him because there was nothing to be scared of. "Pinky, you have to keep moving, my dear. Come on, let's get you up." But he was too stiff, too curled up.

"W-when are we getting out, Brain?"

"Soon, Pinky. Very soon," the smaller mouse assured, rubbing the hard, motionless tail between his hands. No wagging, how long had it been since it last wagged? He blew gently, warm breath, feeling better when it at least twitched.

"You're s-shaking, Brain."

His feet. He hadn't brought his feet under the dress with his knees and the once soft, pink skin was as blue as the rest of him. "I'm fine, Pinky." As long as he moved he'd be fine. And he had to move, to help his not-moving lover. To give him warmth. How long had they been in here now? Three hours? Five hours? How long would their genetically superior hearts continue to pump blood through their frigid veins? "We're fine."

"I'm tired, Brain…"

"I know, dear. But you can't sleep now." If you fell asleep in hypothermic conditions you never woke up. "Stay awake for me. Keep looking at me." Why hadn't he paid better attention? Pinky couldn't take care of himself. He was the most co-dependent life form on the planet. He couldn't even dry himself off after a bath properly. He'd caught a cold, had a fever, needed body heat to sweat it out. Body heat. "Sweetheart, take off your dress."

"'M cold…"

"I'll make you warm, I promise. Please, Pinky." His frantic worry kept his heart pounding, kept the blood flowing, kept his gaze from looking as glossy as the eyes of his husband. Brain rubbed their noses together and kissed his cold lips. "Please."

"...'K-kay." Slowly, so slowly, they uncurled the taller mouse and slipped the beloved dress off of him.

Brain wasted no time ripping it in half. It wasn't more important than his lover not freezing. The megalomaniac's jacket joined it, as did his pants, and he bundled most of the clothes on the side of Pinky that he couldn't physically press against. He tucked him in close, as close as he was able. Cursing for a moment, the taste of copper filled his mouth as his teeth nicked his frozen tongue. If only he could wrap his entire body around him, like Pinky did for him when Brain complained of being cold at night. He'd never complain of being cold again.

"I love you." Brain pressed a firm kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, his lips. The words happened, and he couldn't be bothered to question why. There were other things to question. His husband wasn't speaking. He wasn't shivering anymore. He was so cold. "I love you so much."

He held him. He held him and shivered and spoke for both of them, until the impenetrable door on the impenetrable wall creaked and a sliver of light grew. His heart didn't stop its dreadful pounding until Pinky shuddered against him as the warmth prickled against his skin. Then Brain could breathe.

10. Without (599)

It had been an accident. Jack and Neo had climbed up to their special-secret-tree-fort in the garden and little Ballerina Rose wanted to play with them too. But she was so small and still not used to climbing, so she got stuck way up on a high branch, scared and unable to hear things.

Pinky saw her go up. Clearly his little baby granddaughter needed to be rescued, and who better to save her than her bestest grandmummy? Being a very good climber, Pinky made it up to her with ease. He smiled as she watched him with bright pink eyes, all her scaredy-cat feelings flying away when she realized he was coming to get her. Cradling her with one arm, he brought her down lickity-split and gave her a special nuzzle and kiss.

"Egad, Rosie!" he gasped, then pointed to her neck. "Your pretty little bow is gone!"

Both mice looked over her shoulder at the missing article, a pink bow that very much resembled the one her mother had worn as a child. Such an important ribbon could not go missing. Pinky scanned around the tree, only deterred from his mission when he felt three tugs on his tail. Rosie pointed up at the tree. Her ribbon had gotten caught on one of the high branches.

Laughing in relief, he gave her a pat on the head even though it messed up her little tuft of fur and skewed her rose barrette. "Oh, there it is! _Narf!_ Now how did it get all the way up there?" With clumsy fingers, he signed to her that he'd go get it, or at least that's what he thought he'd signed. It really came out as "I'll go get polka dot suspenders" but Rosie knew what he meant.

So she sat and watched him shimmy back up the tree. From the branch that held her ribbon, he waved down at her and she waved back, then wondered why her grandma's face made an "oh" expression, with wide eyes and a wide, round mouth. She couldn't hear the branch crack.

Pinky was used to falling, and this fall had been just as fun as any of the other ones, but it had been a while since he and Brain had been catapulted off of things, so it made him dizzy and want to take a short nap. It had been a lovely nap, full of spinny colors upon awakening, then full of a wonderfully tight, loving hug from his husband. Egad, when had he gotten here? Was he done with his work? Was it time to play?

"Don't do that ever again!" Brain's voice wasn't quite angry-mad, but it wasn't happy. "You can't do that to me, Pinky! You can't go before me, I won't allow it!"

"Sorry, Brain." He tried to hug him back, clearly his hubby needed one, he was all shaky, but Brain held him too tightly. "I didn't mean to go anywhere except up the tree." Over to the side, he could see several of their grandbabies, the boys down from their tree fort and Rosie clutching the ribbon he'd gone back up to get. He smiled at them, none of them were smiling and that just wasn't right. "Oh good. Troz. I brought it down with me. She just doesn't look right without her bow, does she Brain?"

"Pinky, you imbecile..." But he didn't sound quite as sad, and the kids didn't look quite as scared, so Pinky felt much better. Brain even let up his hold a little to let him hug back. Much better.

* * *

Personally, Soft and Cold are my favorites of... I think the first 20. The first 10 for sure. There's just something about them. I think Cold just because it's the first time I've had Brain call Pinky "sweetheart" and my heart just melts. I don't know why, but you want to win me over or make your fic/whatever the best thing ever in my book? Have Brain call Pinky "sweetheart". Yep. I die every time in the best way.

And Brain brushing Pinky? And being all grumpy about it? xDDDDD

For Without, just so peeps know, Jack, Neocortex, and Rosie are Cici's children. Cici is my OC, which I'm sure most of you know, and so yes. My OC had babbehs. And that's them lol.

Next up: Inspiration, You, Confused, Affection, Joy


	3. 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

11. Inspiration (429)

"You're the meaning in my life! You're the inspiration!"

"Pinky, stop it." The Brain rolled his eyes as he tried to tune out the spastic singing of his lover. He'd been on an 80s pop kick this evening it seemed, and the megalomaniac had quite had his fill of sappy, degrading love songs. "I'm trying to work on our plans for tonight."

"You bring feeling to my life! You're the inspiration!" he continued belting, and Brain would've felt ignored if his husband didn't keep pointing at him every time he said "you're".

"Pinky, I mean it. This has gone on quite long enough." Brain waved him over, inwardly scolding the butterflies in his stomach as the notion of Pinky serenading him struck him as sweet. He was only being his ridiculous self. "Come here and settle down."

"Wanna have you near me! I wanna have you hear me saaaaaaaaayin'!" Pinky shimmied in a circle, then leapt down from the stack of books he'd been using for his stage and crawled over to Brain, belly low to the ground and tail flicking in the air.

The large-headed mouse raised an eyebrow as his husband came closer. Close enough that he only had to arch his back and their noses were touching. Brain's heart skipped a beat and he glowered to try and hide it.

"No one needs you more than I," Pinky whispered, the stark contrast to the bellowing he'd been engaging in only seconds prior filled Brain's face with heat, "need," somehow he was getting closer still, his eyes so big and blue, "you." He ended the chorus with a kiss, Brain's hand cupping the back of his lover's head as he deepened it.

"You're impossible," he murmured, rubbing their noses together and Pinky giggled before rolling away. Brain watched him go, only to roll his eyes as he began the second verse.

"And I know! Yes, I know that it's plain to seeeeee! _Narf! _ We're so in love when we're together!" After spinning in a dizzying circle, Pinky cast a come hither look to his husband, beckoning him over with a swish of his hips. "And I know, that I need you here with me," he purred.

Getting to his feet, The Brain dusted himself off and sighed, supposing it wouldn't hurt to indulge him this once. Strolling over to him, he tugged Pinky down and cupped his cheeks, stroking the soft fur. "From tonight until the end of time."

"Oh, Brain! You know the words!"

"Yes, Pinky. I do. And I must say, you're my inspiration too."

12. You (551)

"I don't know what you see in me."

It was something Brain said a lot after his plans failed or after a fight (sometimes during, as it depended on the fight). Sometimes Pinky saw lots of things, like hippos and pumpkins and elves, but he wasn't sure that's what his husband had in mind when he asked what he saw in him. So one day, Pinky sat down to make a list of all the things he saw in him, because he liked making lists and it helped him remember things so he wouldn't repeat them.

It ended up being a rather long list, but Pinky didn't mind. It was rather fun to think of all the things he saw in Brain. The first thing he saw was happiness. Always. There was hardly a time he looked at husband and didn't feel all warm and nice inside. Just seeing his grumpy-growly scowly-scowl was enough to make him happy. Then he saw a smarty smart mouse, the biggest smarty he'd ever ever met. If he ever needed something to be explained to him, his husband could do it. The thoughts kept coming just like that and Pinky marvelled at how it didn't hurt at all to think of all the things he saw in his chubby hubby love.

He turned it into a letter and saved it for the next time Brain asked, had stashed it under their bed so he wouldn't forget, and presented it to him, smiling brightly at the rather confused megalomaniac. He hadn't expect an actual answer, or one that wasn't fraught with inanity.

"This!" Pinky chirped in response as Brain's gaze roved over the list several times.

1. You're all my happy feelings put together

2. You're the smartiest smarty mouse in the whole world

3. You're terribly fetching

4. You have the prettiest pink eyes

8. You make the best hot chocolate!

27. You have a lovely singing voice and reading voice and blah blah words voice... oh. Poit. I guess you just have a lovely voice!

6. You have a very big heart to want to help all the everyone in the whole world and take care of them.

Fish. You say I love you without ever having to say it. I wish I could do that! That takes talent, Brain!

Bottle. You're my husband.

L. Your laugh and smile are like a bunch of Christmases and birthdays all wrapped up in one big surprise box with polka dots and a big ol' yellow bow!

100. Your head looks like a really yummy pumpkin. It really is a compliment, love. Troz.

15. You don't like to be cold but you don't say anything, you just take all the blankets. Haha- Narf!

%. You dance really funny, but it's the best dancing I've ever seen! Just because it's you.

. Your crookedy tail matches you, love, because it's all special and unique just like you.

B. You're going to rule the whole world someday. I always, always see that. Poit.

Even though his special list embarrassed Brain lots, he still hugged him and told him he was an imbecile, but he said it with love and Pinky knew it had done it's job and cheered his husband up enough so they could ponder about all their tomorrow nights.

13. Confused (362)

Pinky was used to Brain being so con-fused all the time, but this was ridiculous. Now he was getting Pinky all con-fused too! So was Billie for that matter. Egad, his head was spinning.

For weeks he and Brain had been courting. At least that's what he'd thought they'd been doing and it was so romantic! They'd send coy glances across the counter at each other and held hands and sometimes they even shared dreams. The special kind of dreams you had when you loved someone very much.

It was all very exciting and he couldn't wait for the climactic love confession where they would kiss for real instead of in his head. He'd been wanting to kiss Brain for a really long time. That's why it was so confusing when it was Billie who pounced him while he was waiting for his best friend to finish his plan thingy for the night. He didn't want to kiss Billie, but the kiss had him completely surprised and he didn't know what to do. He'd fallen backwards and her legs wrapped around his waist and kept him captured and her hands were all touchy and feely and her tongue was too wiggly. It wasn't a very nice kiss at all. So he told her as much.

Apparently it was very offensive to give someone kissing tips. He really was only trying to help her so the next person she kissed didn't have to go through all that. His hip was all bruised from where he'd fallen on the counter. Maybe Brain would give it a get better kiss. Or at least a special pat.

But Brain didn't look at him. Not once all night. Even when they did his plan thingy, he never looked at him and his words were all mean and short and in that tone of voice that meant he'd done something wrong.

Maybe he'd waited too long to get to the climactic love confession and made Brain all grumpy-growly and impatient. He was going to tell him after the plan, but he forgot when it started raining popcorn and Brain's machiney went kablooey like a spaceship going into space.

14. Affection (426)

A familiar weight fell into his lap. Brain sighed quietly, closed his eyes, and counted to ten in the off chance that it might vanish or he'd realize he'd only imagined the sensation. But no. He opened them only to find himself looking down into a pair of blue eyes. "Pinky. What are you doing?"

"I wanted to say hi!" he told him as if it were obvious.

Brain stared at him and Pinky stared back, his head not moving from where he'd placed it. Right in his lap, right in his way. When the silence stretched on for an exceedingly annoying amount of time, Brain quirked an eyebrow and said, "Well?"

"Oh, right!" Pinky giggled, his chin bouncing a little, making the smaller mouse shift some to make it less uncomfortable. "Hi!"

"Hello. Now that you've accomplished your goal, would you please leave me be? I'm very busy." He gestured to his blueprints in front of him, to which his companion paid little mind to.

"Can't I stay with you?" Big blue eyes pleading, Brain had to force himself to look away if he had any hope of ridding himself of his needy lover.

By no means did he regret pursuing a relationship with his cagemate; Pinky made an excellent partner both on the field and in the bedroom, and he did love him (in his own manner). But it disrupted his routine every now and then when the lanky mouse would come seeking attention. He'd hug him from behind and just sit there, hovering over his shoulder. He'd groom him. He'd want to play Chase Me more than ever before. He'd stick his head in his lap.

He couldn't recall Pinky wanting so much before they were together. Whatever happened to watching his inane television programs and playing with his imaginary friends? When Brain asked him as much, Pinky merely blinked up at him and smiled, rubbing his nose against his stomach. "I want to be with you for a little bit. I like when you touch me like this."

Brain opened his mouth to say he was doing no such thing, until he realized he'd been stroking the top of his lover's head for the entirety of their conversation. While very tactile, even his more 'affectionate' touches were nothing more than bops to the head, or yanking him around by the snout. There was the occasional pat to the side, but...

Another sigh escaped, but it was one of acceptance. He supposed he could still work with him there for this one time.

15. Joy (521)

It was something that always made sense to him and never bothered him before. He really was okay with it! From the moment their friendship had started, Brain had made it clear that his first love (his only love at the time) was the world. So didn't he feel honored when Brain made space in it to include him? And then they fell in love and got married and it all still astounded him. He knew though. He knew he was second and he was very okay with that. The world came first! And the world was very important.

Pinky also had the world to thank for bringing them together. If Brain hadn't needed help on all of his plan thingies, it might have taken much longer for them to become friends. He hadn't really wanted anything to do with him before that, so the world made it so they could be friends and lovers. It deserved to be first in Brain's heart.

So the day he found out that it wasn't true surprised him like nothing had ever surprised him before! They were in bed and it was after love things so Brain could say all he ever wanted to say and couldn't when it wasn't just them and the bedsheets. He'd told him how much he loved him. More than anything, more than everything.

"Egad, Brain... oh, wait, no. Not everything," he told him, still smiling and nuzzling the mouse beside him.

His lover's happy hums paused and he stared blearily at him. "What? Of course everything."

"But I thought the world came first. Always. Poit. Doesn't it, Brain?"

The sated daze began to fade, Brain's brow knitting together. He opened his mouth to respond, closed it and pondered. At least it looked to Pinky like he was pondering. "I..." Whatever it was seemed very hard for Brain to say. "I was under the impression that you knew..."

"Well, of course I know the world comes first, Brain," he giggled, nudging their noses together. "You always say so. Troz."

"No, Pinky." Brain sat up suddenly, the blanket falling to his lap. Pinky blinked at him as he rose right after him. "The world it's... it's important, but you're... moreso."

Blue eyes continued to blink at him. He understood all the words, but he didn't understand. He was more important than the world? Oh! He was more important than the world! Pinky gasped, his whole face lit up and he clapped his hands together. "Really, Brain? Oh, I never would've guessed!" He was beside himself with joy. The world was such an important part of Brain's life, it seemed like a dream or a fairytale that he'd get to be what came first.

He was so happy! Oh, he had to share the happiness with Brain, especially since he looked like he was about to cry. Oh, no crying! Not when this was such good news! So he didn't give his husband time to have hurt feelings as he kissed and kissed and kissed him until he'd shared his smile with him and Brain tossed the blanket over their heads.

* * *

For those of you who don't know (since they are a rather old band), Inspiration was inspired by the song "You're the Inspiration" by Chicago. It's an awesome song, and Pinky wouldn't stop singing it every time I looked at that prompt. So yes.

Also, Pinky has the best counting skills ever.

Next up: Horror, Acceptance, Sympathy, Holding, Defeated


	4. 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

16. Horror (229)

Pinky froze. Blue eyes wide, color drained from his face, tail limp. Slowly, the taller mouse brought a hand up to cover his gaping mouth, trembling. How could this have happened? Why?

"Brain… you-" he cut himself off when his breath hitched, tears blurring his vision. No. No, his husband couldn't do this to him!

Brain had feared this type of reaction. "Pinky, I can explai-"

"How could you?!" Pinky sobbed, pointing at him, accusing him. "I trusted you!"

Rubbing his fist over his heart absently, Brain averted his gaze if only to attempt to rid himself of the tendrils of guilt rising up in him. He had known... but it was a ridiculous request to have made of him! Pinky really couldn't care that much, could he? The tears and the wails assured him that he did, he did care that much. "Pinky, I'm sorry."

"You knew I was saving the last slice of cheesecake for something special!"

Indeed. Brain had eaten the last slice of cheesecake. Pinky wasn't the only one who delighted in the treat, and he'd been hungry. It was either that or food pellets, and quite frankly he hadn't been in the mood. Plus, Pinky always got the last of everything.

That still didn't stop him from taking his wayward husband to get some more cheesecake from the store not five minutes later though.

17. Acceptance (305)

No matter how many times they'd gone through this routine, whenever Brain shouted out Pinky's unimportance, the taller mouse always accepted it. It was unacceptable. Sometimes Brain lost sight of himself, his husband knew this. He'd say cruel things because, caught up in the moment, he felt like being cruel. It was so much easier to say mean things than it was to say three simple words.

But he felt the three words much more strongly than any of the countless cruelties.

The fact that Pinky knew how he felt without him having to say it reassured him at his worst. _Pinky knows I love him. Pinky knows those things aren't true. Pinky knows. _

Brain also knew that Pinky loved him, and still he needed the constant reassurance that he held a place in that too big, too loving heart. He couldn't help but wonder, at his lowest points in his darkest hours, _what does he see in me? Why does he stay?_

It rarely occurred him that his eternally happy lover would entertain similar thoughts from time to time, when the act of thinking was brought to Pinky's attention, that is. Normally following a string of vicious lies and "you don't matter as much as the world, Pinky!" and heartache that he could see on his own heart long before he caught a glimpse of it in Pinky's eyes.

_What does he see in me? Why does he stay?_ The same fears. The same love. Pinky couldn't always see his love for him when he hid it so well.

"Alright, Brain... sorry, Brain... I'll go," he accepted, blue gaze drifting down to the floor.

"No, Pinky." As slowly as the meanness built up overtime, it never failed to drain quickly and leave a tender heart in its wake. "You know I didn't mean it."

18. Sympathy (277)

With the line between pleasure and pain effectively blurred for Pinky, instances that would normally cause The Brain many an ache, bruise, and injury usually only left the taller mouse laughing, cheering, and asking for more. It was irritating, to say the least. However, it was useful. Were Pinky to actually cry and ache every time he got squished or smashed or slammed into something, then Brain would never get a thing accomplished, overly concerned for his wayward husband.

He knew from the moments when real pain engulfed his blue eyes, when he'd clutch at the source of agony caught in a state somewhere between confused and upset. Once it was because he'd swallowed a foot of tinsel. To Brain's knowledge he'd swallowed worse, but it was the tinsel that caused his stomach to revolt and twist and turn and got little shiny bits stuck in his teeth. "I can't get them out, Brain," he'd whined tearfully, trying to fixate on that instead of the tummy ache that had him curled up tight on their bed while the megalomaniac took the time to try and soothe, stroking his fur in soft circles.

It had been his own fault for eating the inedible, but it wasn't often he felt and reacted to real pain and Brain couldn't resist. He knew what it felt like to hurt, he also knew what it felt like to be swept up in loving arms and coddled until the aches diminished as warm kisses comforted and loved. If Pinky had to feel the former, even if it was of his own accord, then he most certainly needed to feel the latter as well.

19. Holding (461)

Being a big brother, he'd always been in charge of holding Sis. He didn't mind, he loved helping! And he loved his sister! He'd always wanted one, at least, he thought he always did, but she was wonderful regardless. Until the people who fed them took her right out of his arms and he never saw her again. Well, until Brain found her, but Brain was super smart so he could do things no one else could like find people.

When he was taken to the lab, Pinky tried to find other things to take care of. To hold. He wanted to be good at it, just like he'd been with Sis only this time he wouldn't let anyone take what didn't want to be taken. Not everything was easy to hold though, especially the little mouse with the big head he shared a cage with. But he loved holding him best of all, even when it was hard.

So he decided to himself one day that he'd be in charge of holding Brain. They were bestest friends after all, and someone needed to take care of him. He scowled and growled and grumped so much, Pinky realized that he must not have gotten many hugs. It made him want to hug him more.

Brain didn't like to let him, he pushed away and squirmed and got all embarrassed, but after they became boyfriends and then husbands, it got a little easier. Clearly he was a good holder-on-to-er, Brain never left for forever and sometimes even asked for hugs. Not out loud, but with his pretty pink eyes and his pouty little lips. Pinky was always happy to oblige.

It surprised him when one day it was Brain who came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him tight. He'd only been sitting in front of the TV, not in any danger or upset or wanting love things at the moment, so the spontaneous hug had him baffled.

"Did you want a hug, Brain?" he asked curiously, trying to look behind him, but his husband was pressed entirely up against him, resting his cheek on the back of his head.

"No, Pinky. Just let me do this." There was nothing strange in his voice; he wasn't sad or anything. If anything he was a little extra grumpy-growly.

Pinky blinked. "Because why?"

"Can't a mouse hold his husband without question?" Brain grumbled, hugging him tighter as if to prove a point. "You do it all the time."

Because it was his job to hold someone, and his someone was Brain. But he didn't say anything and let him be, relaxing into the embrace and wondered. Maybe it was everyone's job to hold a someone, and that he was Brain's someone too.

20. Defeated (356)

He thought it would've hurt more.

Foreign lips caressing those only he was supposed to know best, foreign hands mussing up his fur, foreign eyes beckoning 'come hither', a foreign hand leading him away.

Away from him.

He knew it was all fake; Snowball had even said so. He'd made him feel like this on purpose - made him fall in love with this stranger - to distract him from his goal. From the world.

Snowball hadn't known it would distract Brain from him too. He hadn't known they were married. For a moment, he'd thought the hamster felt bad and would say sorry and fix it, but then he was laughing. He said he'd done Brain a bigger favor than he'd intended and that he owed him one. Pinky didn't understand, this wasn't a favor at all. Then the hamster wished him good luck in reversing the scrambled chemicals and hormones and left him alone with his husband and his husband's new lover.

He tried to win him back, but he couldn't compete with biology. Something that had once been right in Brain was terribly wrong. Something that couldn't be fixed with presents or promises. Get-better kisses didn't even work. What was wrong inside needed to be fixed and he didn't know what was broken to begin with. Snowball wouldn't tell him.

Pinky thought it would've hurt more. Eyes that had once only smoldered for him now only saw this other mouse. Hands that once only grasped at him now stroked and touched her. His scowls were gone. He smiled at her. He loved her.

At first it had hurt, lying alone in a bed built for two. Somewhere in the lab, in another cage, he could hear their squeaks and he longed to answer half of them, instead choking them down to burn holes in his chest right through to his heart. Suffocating him. Killing him softly.

He was no longer what his husband wanted, no matter how unintentional, and he couldn't do anything to change it. He couldn't do anything.

He thought it would've hurt more, but each day he only felt emptier.

* * *

Awww, I'm ending on a sad note :(

I'll just have to update again tonight to make up for it xD I can't end on that one, it's too sad.

Next up: Pride, Knife, Overwhelmed, Depressed, Adoration


	5. 21, 22, 23, 24, 25

21. Pride (298)

Envy. He succumbed to that more often than he'd care to admit, but it was difficult not to envy the luck of some, the power of others. No one deserved what others had handed to them more than he did.

Lust. It was close to being the worst of all, had it not been Pinky whom he lusted after from time to time, but when those urges overcame him, even his precious plans were tossed aside in favor of falling to the sin. His husband was too beautiful to resist.

Gluttony. Once he got a taste of something, power or success or a kiss from his husband, he needed more, took more. Only one of those things was willing to give him just what he wanted though.

Sloth. His fur would bristle, refused to consider himself as one who acted in such a manner. He had too much drive, too much passion-! Except it centered on one thing, and everything else he quietly dismissed or ignored. And he hated exercising. There was that too.

Wrath. His temper was far too volatile, even he knew that, but capping it seemed near impossible, or he would have done so to keep from flying off the handle at his husband far too often. But it wasn't entirely his fault. Someone had to make him angry to begin with, after all.

Greed. That particular sin had lost him the world several times. He wanted it all. Deserved it all. Sometimes it was hard to be satisfied with what one got as a mouse.

But Pride. Pride was the worst of all. Brain was proud, and proud that he was proud. He saw nothing wrong with it. When one was a genius, shouldn't they be proud?

And the rest of the sins followed.

22. Knife (273)

It dug in deep and twisted hard. Like turning a crank, over and over. He actually clutched his chest, completely winded, was he even breathing?

Had he imagined it all? Surely not. Why would he conjure up hooded eyes, smoldering as they watched and wanted him? Why would their hands jump away from each other when accidentally meeting as they worked together? Why would he dream of soft moans, heavy panting, and verbal tics only to wake and hear the same fantasy in his cagemate's sleepy voice?

No, it was not imagined. The spark was there, had been there at least, and it ignited a fire that steadily consumed him until he could think of nothing else. Nothing else but to seal their lips together and press firmly against all that soft fur, feel him everywhere. But it went deeper than that. He wanted to take care of the simple creature and wanted to be taken care of back. Trusted his life to blue eyes and a kind smile, and could only hope that he was equally trusted.

It was that deep part of him the knife had reached and attempted to carve out. None of that could've been fabricated. Pinky would never be so cruel. So why was it Billie's lips his were locked to and Billie's weight on top of him and Billie's hands tracing the curves of his body?

Clearly he'd waited too long. And he had no one to blame but himself. Smothering the fire with cold steel, Brain wrenched out the knife and walked away. He had a world to conquer. He'd leave conquering hearts to the fools.

23. Overwhelmed (687)

"Brain, she won't stop crying..."

Rubbing his temples in irritation and exhaustion, the megalomaniacal mouse turned his weary gaze towards his cagemate. Dark circles shadowed Pinky's normally vibrant blue eyes, just as tired as Brain's own but also clouded with concern and fear. Their ears were both flat against their heads, attempting to block out the screams of the suffering baby as best as they could to alleviate their headaches.

"Why won't she stop crying, Brain?" Pinky whimpered, rocking his baby snow mouse weakly.

Brain pinched right between his eyes, where the throbbing was strongest. "She's sick, Pinky. It's all she can do."

"But I'm trying to make her feel better," he sniffled and Brain watched as a new round of tears slipped down his friend's face. "I'm trying really hard, baby, I am. All the get better kisses I can give I'm giving to you." He brushed his lips against the child's fevered forehead several times, but soon he was sobbing too hard to keep going. He was bumping her head and drooling on it more than kissing it.

"Pinky, give her to me." Gesturing for his taller companion to join where he sat slumped by his sardine tin, Brain grabbed two pieces of tissue to be ready for when the mice came over. One was clear up the congestion of the sickly one, and the other to mop up Pinky's dripping face.

"I'm a terrible mummy, Brain." He continued to drip tears onto the tissue and Brain's hand. "She's been so sad for days."

"Hush, Pinky. I can't handle two wrecks on my own," was his attempt to comfort the taller mouse. "You're a perfectly adequate mother. Her crying has nothing to do with sadness, my dear, she's only experiencing severe discomfort and is expressing it in the only way she knows how." By breaking their eardrums. He was so exhausted, he didn't even notice the slip of his tongue. My dear. A petname that wasn't quite ready to be used. "Now give her to me, that's it..."

The miserable child seemed even more miserable in his arms than in Pinky's. Shouldn't have been a surprise, really. Pinky was the nurturer. What child wouldn't prefer him over anyone else? She was hot all over, coughing and wheezing and wailing and crying. And to think this all started from a handful of adorable sneezes Pinky had been cooing at two days ago when they'd brought her back from Roman's.

"Cerebral Cortex, you may cry all you want now because you're sick and it hurts," he murmured, feeling Pinky lean his weight against him and found it to be a good idea to do the same. "But no more crying once you're all better, understand?" Brain rubbed his nose against her heated brow. "You'll have no reason to cry then. Your mother and I are the best parents and you'll be happy all the time. Is that clear?"

It didn't matter that the command was ridiculous, no child could be eternally happy, not even Pinky. But he was sleep deprived and so was his companion and it made the baby settle for a few minutes of peace, her sickly sniffling replacing the screeching.

"Good girl, Cici. Very good. Mommy and I are very proud," Brain praised as he got her to blow her nose into a tissue and still keep her soft crying soft. "Come, Pinky. To bed now. Before she starts up again."

They tucked her in between them, pink eyes wide and watering as she looked from one to other, her whining turning high and squeaky. "Shh, baby snow mouse. Just say narf," Pinky cooed, sliding under the covers with her.

"When you aim to explain, just say narf," Brain yawned, following suit. "No matter how ridiculous..." His hand reached for his cagemate's, their fingertips meeting and twining together as they huddled around the sniffly-snoring baby.

"I love you, Brain..." The sentiment was sleepy, half-aware. Pinky leaned over Cici on the pillows and bumped his head against Brain's affectionately.

Brain nuzzled back, no words escaping as they finally fell asleep. The fever breaking at sunrise.

24. Depressed (622)

"Bubbeleh, come away from the window. Let's watch more of your dad's home movies and make fun of his head."

The child's tail twitched, but she didn't draw her gaze away from the inky black sky and the stars that speckled it. Fixated on one little pinprick of light in particular, she held her breath as she wished. Wishes didn't come true if they were interrupted.

"Bubbeh? Come on, don't worry. Your mommy and daddy will be back before you know it," her aunt's comforting voice floated over to her, closer than it had been before. Cici blew out the breath she'd been holding; the wish was made.

"He doesn't wanna be called daddy." It was the only response she offered her aunt.

She was close enough now that she could see the teasing smile in her reflection. "Oh yes he does. He just doesn't like to admit it, the shmuk."

"No. He yelled at me." Her ears fell as she recalled the biting words, still on repeat in her mind, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "He told me not to."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Cici let her forehead knock against the window, lightly tapping it. He had meant it; he'd looked so mad and sounded even madder. She hadn't even done anything wrong, at least not that she knew of. All she'd wanted was a hug and a bedtime story and he'd snapped at her. Said he didn't have time to baby her, said that he had a world to conquer and why didn't anyone understand that? She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling and blinking back the tears she'd been fighting off all night. She tried to understand, but it was really hard when one was only three-months-old. She wasn't even sure how most of his plans worked, but they sounded really smart. And important. The plan, always the plan. Bedtime stories and hugs weren't part of the plan.

Auntie Brie placed a hand on her shoulder, used it to gently nudge her around to face her and brought her in for a hug. Cici allowed it, having missed out on her hug from Pinky too, and at least her aunt wanted to be her aunt. "Why doesn't he wanna be my real daddy?"

"He does, Cici. You wouldn't be here if he didn't," she assured her, but the girl couldn't quite believe it. Not when she got in the way and disrupted the plans because she couldn't stay home alone.

"It's good that Pinky's a mommy-daddy," Cici mumbled, hugging Brie tightly. "He can be both."

She waited up for them to come home anyway, curled on her side facing away from their bed and listened for the tap of the mail slot and the creak of the cage door. Pinky checked on her like he always did, of course he couldn't tell if she was faking sleep or not, but it made her feel better when he tucked the blanket around her tighter and gave her ear a kiss.

There was no sound of either of them getting on the bed though. No sound at all really. Cici debated rolling over to face them, see if she could get away with peeking an eye open without drawing attention to herself, but the she heard a quiet sigh from near the edge of her bed and then footsteps leading away from it. Pinky's tic sounded quietly and the bed creaked as they both got in.

She waited a little while longer, realizing the inflated feeling in her chest was hope and that it steadily eased out of her when the words from earlier weren't taken back. She must've wished on the star wrong.

25. Adoration (514)

There. That was the last of them. A perfectly good plan gone to waste, but still... "Why didn't you tell me it had gotten this bad?"

Brain turned, hands on his hips in an attempt to intimidate the answer out of the wheezing, sniffly, red-eyed mouse. But it fell quite flat, as he couldn't bring himself to be completely irritated with his partner when he was so clearly miserable. He went to his bedside - he ordered bed rest even though it would do very little for what was wrong - and rubbed his aching temples in an attempt to ease the congestion.

His plan had been flawless. He'd finally developed a genus of flower that produced a pollen that would render the world extremely suggestible and open to his rule! It had taken many tedious hours of cross-pollination to breed this particular flower, testing each on his companion to get an idea of how close he was to perfecting it. Pinky had taken each one with delight, as if no task was greater for him, and Brain waved it off, waiting for the right mixture to bring him the world.

He should've noticed when Pinky started sniffling and blowing his nose. But allergies were to be expected when working with flowers. He himself had a particularly bad case of them seasonally, and had taken precaution in the form of Allegra, just in case. But with the last batch, he'd handed so many of the flowers to Pinky, hadn't realized the combination of flowers coincided with the breeds his cagemate was most allergic to until he swelled up and clutched at his throat as if he couldn't breathe and then he had no choice but the chuck the offending pollen away.

Pinky looked slightly better, still blotchy and sniffly, but he could speak and breathe and that was what mattered. Though he still looked at him with the strangely delighted expression. "Pinky, why didn't you tell me it had gotten this bad?"

"Weww, because I di'n't wan' you to s'top givin' me flowas, Bwain," he told him matter-of-factly, his nose horribly congested still.

Brain held up a tissue for him to blow into. "Why does it matter if I was giving you flowers or not?"

"I's so awfully womantic, Bwain! Nawf! An' you nevah gib me pwesents. I' was nice." Pinky beamed at him adoringly, red-rimmed eyes and all.

He'd thought he'd been getting presents. That Brain had been displaying some kind of affectionate act and took them because it made him happy. Happy enough to ignore that he basically gave him, possibly, the worst case of allergies anyone had ever experienced.

Brain's cheeks burned, but he didn't stop gently massaging his friend's head and made a note to give him gifts more often. Then perhaps he wouldn't be such a fool about the ones that weren't. It was stretch, but he couldn't deny that it would be... in Pinky's vernacular, nice to treat the simple mouse once in a while. If only to be on the receiving end of that delightful, adoring gaze.

* * *

More of Cici!  
And Brain both succeeding as a parent and failing as a parent xD That's pretty much the story of their first six months together. Success and failure lol.

Also, Knife is the companion piece to Confused, though I'm sure you all got that. Or at least, I hope you did.

Next up: Worship, Zeal, Light, Exhaustion, Obsession


	6. 26, 27, 28, 29, 30

26. Worship (280)

"Is it too much to ask for a little appreciation?" Brain was ranting about humanity's inability to accept him as their world leader again, pacing the cage rapidly. "What do I have to do to earn some respect?! My intellect is massive! I could do so much for these boobs and their simple-minded ways! They should be praising my name!"

He raised his fist to the air and Pinky knew his hubby was reaching his breaking point. After accusing all of the people of the world for being too stupid to realize how great he was, he'd start into picking at pieces of himself. _I'll never get the world, Pinky. What do you see in me, Pinky? I can't do it anymore, Pinky._

Pinky didn't want to hear those things tonight, or any night. So as he watched Brain grit his teeth and growl and press his hands to his head, he wracked his brain for some kind of something that would make him feel better. Cheer him up, so to speak.

Hopping off the bed, the sudden movement caught The Brain's attention and he looked over in time to see his lover on his knees. Bowing. "Hail, Brain! _Narf!_" He appreciated Brain, he respected him and wanted to show him that it wasn't just during love things that he praised his husband's name.

Luckily, he got to do that anyway because Brain had wasted no time in yanking him up by the scruff of his neck and kissing him hungrily. This reaction was much better than the one he'd feared. They'd need to do this more often, because his praises definitely needed to be sung in squeaky love songs.

27. Zeal (1298)

He'd brushed off the tingling in his fingers, only growing mildly concerned when his entire arm followed suit, and by the time he knew he should be panicking (stroke, heart attack, what?) he was passed out on the floor of their cage; Pinky's concerned, questioning voice the last thing he'd been aware of hearing.

He pinned the blame on the scientists. They made him run an obscene amount of tests the day before, taxing his body, pushed him to his limit and didn't even give him a proper cool down afterwards. That was what induced the heart attack, nothing more. It wasn't stress and certainly wasn't because he was overweight. No. It was an impossibility. Surely, it was a side-effect of ridiculous testing in the name of science.

But that didn't appease his husband, who was sobbing when he woke up. Apparently the scientists had taken him away for a little bit, to observe and determine whether he would awaken ("Of course I was going to awaken, Pinky, what do you take me for?") and didn't tell the taller mouse a thing. All he kept hearing was "heart attack" and the bumbling idiot had taken it to mean that he'd made him sick.

"I didn't take very good care of your heart at all, Brain!" he wailed, draping his body over him as he sprawled out on their sponge bed.

"Pinky, heart attacks have little to do with the romantic image of a heart," Brain attempted to console him, irritated that his arm still tingled when he moved it as he stroked the messy fur atop his partner's head. "They're brought on by numerous stressors. Most common is an unhealthy lifestyle, when one engages in overeating, smoking, zero exercise, and accumulates a large amount of stress in their day to day life."

Blue eyes blinked at him blankly, then slowly narrowed. "You do all those things, Brain."

"What?" The megalomaniac arched an eyebrow. "Pinky, that's preposterous. I do not stuff myself silly as you tend to do that enough for the both of us. I haven't smoked in months. I exercise my mind constantly, as well as my patience with you, and I am not stressed."

The look his husband continued to give him set him on edge. He didn't buy it. "You snack on food pellets when you're working on your plan thingies, even after meal times. You snuck a cigarette last week - I saw you. And you never, ever run on the wheel, and taking over the world every night always makes you- umm... that last one! You do it all, Brain! You're hurting yourself!" The stern tone and expression dissolved into tears as he began his crying again. "Oh, Brain, please don't hurt your poor heart! I need it! I need you!"

Brain's ears flattened. "Pinky, stop that. It's not my fault. It was the experiments! They must've induced it- Pinky, are you even listening to me?" He was crying so loudly, Brain couldn't even hear himself think. "This is nothing to cry over. I'm perfectly alright."

Pinky shot up and grabbed onto his shoulders when he tried to get out of bed, pushing him back down. "You have to rest!" he told him. "And once you're better, you have to start taking care of chubby round body better. _Zort_."

"Pinky," Brain warned, but his husband wasn't going to budge. "Pinky, it's my body, I can do with it what I want. I'm not a child, you cannot tell me what to do." The irritability was uncontrollable; on some level he understood where Pinky was coming from and wished he could adequately assure him that he would not get sick again. Perhaps he could not manage it, because it was a promise he couldn't make. If another heart attack were to happen upon him, he'd be powerless to stop it. And once you had one... He shook his head, glaring at the taller mouse. He would not be bossed around by a mouse who certainly never once treated his body like a temple.

Crossing his arms, Pinky huffed and turned his head away. "Fine! No love things then."

Pink eyes blinked a moment, then narrowed. "What?" What was his wayward, idiot of a husband going on about now?

"For every night you don't run on the wheel, that's a night we don't do love things," he explained.

"Pinky, that's absurd! You can't possibly be serious," Brain demanded of him.

"I am and I will." Pinky's tail gave it's own irritable flick.

A growl of frustration escaped him. "You're mine to do with as I please whenever I wish. We're married, Pinky. You're _my _husband."

Arching an eyebrow and maintaining a rather unimpressed look, Pinky shrugged. "It's my body. _Narf._ I can do with it what I wish. And I wish no love things until you can love you and your chubby little heart."

It wasn't going to happen. There was no way Pinky would be able to go longer than one night without love things since they weren't exhausted from their plans, as Brain decided it would be best to postpone them for a week or so, there was plenty of time for love things. Yet Pinky stayed true to his word. Even when Brain had resorted to squeaking for his husband's attention after the second night. The lanky mouse had shivered, but didn't turn around and didn't even look at him. For all of the next day, Brain pouted at him and refused to give him the time of day. It was petty and childish, yes, but if Pinky was going to behave that way, then so would he.

Except he was refusing to eat the breakfast Pinky had prepared for him (whole grain food pellets and herbal tea), which made him cry when lunch rolled around and he still wouldn't look at him or touch the food. "I don't want you to _die_, Brain!" he sobbed, tears splashing in the tea. "I'm not trying to be mean, I just don't want you to die!"

It broke him, and later that afternoon, he pulled on his purple tank top, gym shorts, and running shoes and did a good twenty minutes on the wheel. His reward was being showered with kisses, everywhere, and Pinky didn't even mind that he was sweating and disgusting or sore from using muscles he firmly believed in not using. But then Pinky massaged every last achy bit of him and gave him what he'd desired the night before.

It certainly inspired him to be a bit more... zealous in his workouts, and he'd eat the whole grain food pellets and drink the herbal tea because his lover cared enough about him to do things differently (to actually use his mind to think to do things differently), and the massages certainly prevented him from feeling as stressed. As for the smoking, he remained adamant that he did not sneak the cigarette Pinky claimed to have seen. He really hadn't; he'd lit it up and let it burn out on the windowsill because he'd found one crammed in the back of the drawer from when he'd been addicted and figured it would be a fitting send off for the last of them.

He would take care of his body for his husband. After all, he couldn't possibly die without taking over the world and leave Pinky all on his own. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. When thinking of it that way, the exercise came much more easily.

That, and it had surprising effects on his stamina when it came to love things. His libido did not pale besides Pinky's any longer, and that little bit of pride was very much worth a little sweat and a lot of kissing.

28. Light (383)

When he was happy, he sparkled. Literally.

The fact that Pinky was essentially a walking miracle had been readily accepted by Brain. His blundering companion mucked his plans up on several occasions, so to accidentally become one with the Magnum Opus rather than placing it in the vessel he'd specifically designed just to contain the sheer power of the stone seemed appropriately Pinky. It was frustrating, to say the least, that he'd accomplished what alchemists had deemed forever lost in the pursuit of technology, and he couldn't even use it. But frustrating or not, he'd accepted that it had fixed itself to his cagemate. He'd seen it with his own eyes.

What continuously astounded him though, had him blinking in awe, was the glimmer, the shine, the prism of light that emanated from his very soul it seemed, deeper than his too blue eyes. Whenever he was particularly delighted, he shone. From the tips of his ears to his toes and even through his tail, when he beamed at Brain he was truly beaming. It was difficult to hide at first, what with Pinky being so deliriously happy all the time, but eventually he could control it.

Another baffling development. How could Pinky control this light? This power? He could use it at will, which Brain strictly forbid him from doing. Not because he would do any harm (nonsense, Pinky was using it to bring flowers back to life and help them bloom), but because the more power he used, the less of him there would be. It was affixed to his soul, after all.

But Pinky of all people, was trusted to control that light. To be the vessel of the Philosopher's Stone. And as much as Brain detested the waste, he couldn't help but agree that there was no one more perfect than Pinky to be trusted with it, while he be trusted with Pinky. To make sure none of those vagrants tracking them got their hands on him. Not until he could set things right within his friend.

When he promised to protect him, after a close call with Snowball, he barely had time to take note of the dark flush that painted his cheeks before he was illuminated. Brighter than anything Brain had ever seen. And, mind-boggling as it was, it was beautiful.

29. Exhaustion (287)

It had been a tough decision, but one that he did not regret. Being Super Mouse required energy that he just didn't have after spending the whole day playing with six adorable grandbabies. Once upon a time he could remember fighting crime and playing with his children, but his children hadn't come all at once, and his niece and nephews had come at a different time too. Cici and Cyan told him it was because he'd been younger, but he didn't feel any older. He felt the same! Until the grandbabies went away for the night and Pinky's back yelled at him for letting too many of them ride at once. But he couldn't say no to any of them. They were so cute!

He'd tried to be Super Mouse and fight the bad guys before playing with his babies' babies, but then he got very tired very quickly and he hated to leave them in the middle of a game to take a nap. Other than getting tired faster, nothing else had changed. He could climb and run and dance and jump and sing just like he always could, but for less time. Super Mouse couldn't be as super if he was getting tired. But he couldn't bring himself to hang up his cape and mask. The world needed him. His family needed him.

"Grandma," Pumpkin tugged on his tail one day in the playroom. "We don't need a superhero to have fun. We need you."

So when he crawled into bed at night to snuggle with his hubby (he was never too tired for snuggles or love things), it was after a hard days' work of being grandma, and Pinky was rather happy with that.

30. Obsession (378)

"Not _now_!"

Brain growled through gritted teeth, waving away the nuisance buzzing in his ear, trying to distract him from his goal with unimportant trivialities. _Won't you rest, Brain? Please come to bed. Brain, I'm tired. It's cold without you. Brain, please?_

"I don't care! Stop bothering me!"

His plans weren't gelling. Wrong, wrong, they were all wrong. How could any of these be worthy of the _world_?

"Quiet, Pinky!"

He would not sleep. He would not eat. He'd spent too many nights slaving over blueprints and formulae and failures. Failure. Failure. Failure. He was not a failure, he would conquer the world. Nothing would deter him from this. Nothing else mattered-

"Brain, I-"

"I said _quiet_!" This time when his hand swung back, his palm came back stinging and the _smack_ echoed in his ears. All he could see was red. Anger boiled in his gut. Anger, irritation, frustration, _loathing_- how dare his frivolous husband take his attention away from-!

…His husband. His husband who was sitting behind him, their blanket from their bed wrapped around his shoulders, his pillow on the counter beside him. His husband who stared at him with wide, wondering blue eyes, his hand pressed to his cheek, his ears flattened.

All he could see was red blossoming from beneath Pinky's palm, his soft white cheek marred from impact. He'd struck him. He'd struck him hard enough to leave a reddening welt on his lover's sweet face. The lover who, despite being tired and ready for bed after a night of being ignored, stayed sitting up with him, dragged their bedding over to stay close to him.

This was different from a bop. Different from the usual brand of punishment dished out when Pinky was being inappropriate, annoying, a pest, ridiculous.

Pinky didn't know why he'd been hit. And Pinky didn't ask.

With hands trembling, Brain reached for him. Something in his heart twisted painfully when blue, blue eyes lit up with joy at the attention. "Pinky, I…"

"Do I still have to be quiet, Brain?"

His breath hitched and he shook his head, capturing Pinky's hand in his own and kissed it, the red mark still glaring at him even as it began to fade. "No, my dear. Let's go to bed."

* * *

I should be writing my story for my workshop class in 8 hours, but I'm uploading this instead.

At least I'm not writing PatB at the moment, that would prove to be terribly distracting from my studies. And my roommate's up with me! We're pulling an all-nighter together! Hooray! (Because did I forget to mention that I also have a midterm I need to be studying for? Yep. Fun-fun silly-willy...)

I may not update tomorrow because I'll be dead. But I'll try xD

Next up: Rage, Empty, Anger, Fury, Delight (I'm sensing a theme with this next batch lol except for the fact that one of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong... but it's my favorite of these)


	7. 31, 32, 33, 34, 35

31. Satisfied (895)

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"A reinwoobywhatsit?"

The four month old grandson of Neocortex sighed in resignation, the scowling child rubbing a hand to his larger than average brow. "Sometimes I think talking to you is like talking to wet paint."

"Thank you!" The grandson of Sherlock giggled, sitting up straight and quite pleased with himself. The two children were out in the garden, the younger of the two (but only by two weeks, he was adamant on reminding people of that) was reading under the shade of a rose bush, while the older had been engaged in an imaginary dance recital, a ring of flowers encircling his neck. "But to answer your question, I think you've got the word all wrong. Troz!" Blue eyes smiled at his friend as the latter's brow arched in question. "I think you meant reinroseation. Those aren't carnations, you see." He pointed to the bush just above them, the little pink buds winking down from between the crisp green leaves.

Bay rolled his eyes. "Reincarnation has nothing to do with flowers, imbecile. It's when a spirit lives on in different bodies over different periods of time."

Sitting down in front of him, eyes wide in rapt attention, Pinny clasped his hands together and leaned in. "Like the ninja turtles! _Narf!_"

The younger sent him a bland look. "No, not quite. The ninja turtles stay the same. They're always Michaelangelo, Raphael, Donatello, and Leonardo while the actors who play them change overtime. Reincarnation is the opposite."

"Oh." Pinny blinked. "'Kay."

Bay thumbed the page of his ancient eastern culture text, brow furrowing as he continued to consider it, glancing up after a few moment of silence to see his friend still staring at him, tail swishing occasionally. "Well? Do you believe in that?"

"If you say it's true," the blue-eyed, buck-toothed mouse replied, smiling. "You know everything!"

"Not everything," he grumbled, crossing his arms as he glared at the book. "There's no proof such a thing exists, yet..." Yet sometimes he had this feeling... when he walked the halls of the castle. Just a feeling.

"I have dreams."

Bay's ears perked and he flicked his gaze back to Pinny, the idiot appearing oddly serious. "Congratulations, pinhead. You've figured out how to work your unconscious mind, a gift most people are born with," he deadpanned.

He giggled, something about his tone of voice just delighting him. "No, no, no, Bay! _Zort._ Not just any old dreams. Dreams that I'm big and a grown-up. Sometimes I'm here at the castle and sometimes I'm in this weird place with bars and a door and a water bottle and an exercise wheel. Kinda like a cage, but completely different. Oh! And I'm always with you!"

Eyes of blue and pink stayed fixated on each other, the former as bubbly as ever and the latter wide and curious. When he looked into those eyes... that was when that feeling was the strongest. "I have those dreams too," he admitted quietly.

Pinny gasped and leaned forward, bumping their noses together. "You do? Egad, Bay! We're like wizards!"

"Exactly, Pinny. We're like wizards," Bay sighed, choosing his battles with his simple-minded companion carefully.

"We're gonna be married someday, too!" The slightly taller child nodded firmly, losing the contact to sit up straight and puff out his chest. "Married forever and ever! _Narf!_"

Idiot. Bay flicked his forehead, sending the silly creature into a tizzy of giddy laughter. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Ever since he could remember Pinny believed they were going to be married. "Is that what you think then? That if we had past lives, we were married?"

Pinny nodded exuberantly. "Oh yes, Bay! In my dreams we are definitely marrieds!"

"Are we happy?" Bay asked, almost hesitantly as his finger brushed over a sentence on the page, but he masked it with a scowl. When he dreamed, he was never certain. Sometimes there were a lot of dark things and nightmares... but whenever there were those blue eyes blinking at him, he believed he was happy.

There was another nod. "Very happy. Troz. And fun-fun silly-willy!"

The slightly smaller, chubbier child's brow furrowed further, even if the answer relieved some deep down part of him. "That doesn't make any sense though. You'd think to want to try living again, you'd be unsatisfied with your previous life."

"Well, maybe we just liked it so much we wanted to do it again. Poit."

Bay's expression smoothed out in mild wonder, watching Pinny rock back and forth as he held onto his toes. "I... I suppose that could be a reason. I mean, only if such a thing existed after all. As far as we know, they're just silly dreams." He closed his book firmly, picking it up as he got to his feet. "Come, Pinky, I've had enough of being outside."

"Right, Brain!"

The names came so naturally to both of them, neither noticed the slip. Pinnacle only laughed and spun in a circle while Basal Ganglia dusted himself off. With blue eyes sparkling, Pinny latched onto his friend's hand while Bay rolled his eyes with a reluctant sort of fondness and let him. As they left the shade of the ballerina rose bush, a squirmy tail twined around a crookedy one and held on.

32. Empty (649)

Molly didn't like her name.

It had been picked only to match Mia's, and being twins they had to match. "What are you doing with that flower on your head, Molly?" their mother would ask, shaking her head, amused in her exasperation. "You don't see Mia running around with things around her ears, do you?"

"I'm not Mia," she'd say, but she wouldn't say she was Molly either because the name tasted like a lie on her tongue. Heavy and wrong. "I want to look different."

"You're twins, dear. You look the same." And their mother would snatch up the flower she'd placed behind her ear, or the sash she'd draped around her waist, or the bow she'd tied around her neck. "We're mice, we don't need things like this. They'll only get in the way."

So she looked just like any other mouse, not special or unique. She'd blend in with her massive family, the boys always playing and fighting and rough-housing and Mia always whining about something. Molly read a lot of books and stayed in the corners of her house. No one noticed her anyway and it was safer in the corners. Her tail already had a kink from where it'd been stepped on too many times.

"You can't just sit around on the floor, Molly. You're in the way," her father would say. "Stop reading and go out and play with your brothers." But her brothers were too rough and it wasn't always fun to play when the playing was mean. They would tease her.

"So what's your name today, Miss Priss? Hm? What special name do you have today?"

Some days she was Dandelion. Some days she was Elizabeth. Some days she was Marie, Gwendolyn, Harmony, Athena, Desdemona, Sugarplum, Starlight, or Juliet. Some days she was Clara, and Clara felt the most right of all, even if it wasn't quite perfect. She supposed she just liked that it started with a C.

"What's wrong with your name? Molly is a fine name," her mother would defend.

"It's all those books she reads," her father would add. "A waste of time, filling her head with nonsense. A mouse doesn't need to read books. We only need to read the things that will help us survive."

"I like reading. I like understanding things."

Her mother and father would shake their heads. "What good will it do you as a grown mouse? You're too small and too meek and you don't know how to stand up for yourself. If you didn't have your head in a book so much, you'd probably have more life skills."

She was too small because her brothers ate all the food. She was too meek because it was impossible to speak up in this family. She could stand up for herself though, but nobody listened. "I'm going to be very important someday," Molly told them.

They smiled at her, placating smiles. "Of course you will, dear."

She would. She'd dreamed of it and the dreams always felt so right. When Molly dreamed it was of the prettiest blue eyes and the kindest smile and the sweetest laugh. She dreamed of warm hugs and gentle nuzzles and the feel of fingers delicately tying a satin ribbon around her neck. She dreamed of a strong hand patting her head, the highest of praise, and a low voice lulling her to sleep. When Molly dreamed there was attention and affection and ambition.

In her dreams there was a family that didn't call her Molly. And it felt more right than anything ever had in her whole life. She'd wake up with tears in her eyes and an ache in her heart. Why was the dream so much better than her life? When morning would come and her parents would call for her, she wouldn't answer. It was too hollow a sound to be her name.

33. Anger (604)

They didn't fight a lot, but they did fight, as married couples tended to do. Little fights, big fights, fights that climbed on rocks. Either one of them could be the catalyst and any number of topics could set them off. It really just depended on their respective moods. But the fights always ended when Pinky unexpectedly crushed his lips to Brain's, kissing him even when Brain didn't want to be kissed. He'd protest and rage and push away, but Pinky would keep kissing, kiss him until he became complacent and malleable thanks to a combined effort of lips and tongue.

But tonight, Pinky didn't want to kiss Brain.

No. Tonight he was feeling hurt and he knew he didn't want to kiss Brain when he was feeling like this. Angry to the point of trembling, sick to his stomach, achy-breaky all over, hurt. He couldn't even remember what had started this particular snap, but he did know that he was so, so tired of it. Tired of the insults, of the brush-offs, of the regret. Especially of the "I don't need you! I don't want you! You're useless!"

All the angry sad bad swirled like a whirly wind inside him, but not in the fun-fun silly-willy way. No, this way made him want to scream, cry, yell, throw things, run, run away, run far far far away and never ever come back.

"I wish I'd never met that angel!" Pinky shrieked, so far off from the subject they'd been on that Brain was actually silenced mid-thought, his mind scrambling to catch up with what he'd first dismissed as inanity. But it was too despairing to be something so easily dismissed. "I wish he'd never found me! He's a liar! He lied to me! You'd be better off if I were-!"

"Don't you DARE finish that sentence, Pinky! Don't even think about it!" Brain roared, his panic manifesting as more anger.

"Too late! I already have!" Pinky shot back, gesturing to his head. "And I'm still thinking about it! La-la-_la_, thinking-thinking-_thinking_!" The sing-songy tone, no matter how bitter it was, was still ridiculous enough to ease Brain's temper and allow him to clearly assess the situation.

Breathing heavily, his shoulders went slack and there was a heaviness in his chest that felt stifling. There'd been no cause for his anger, no cause for hurling cruel words at each other. But in the face of Pinky's anger he couldn't help it. Pinky wasn't supposed to get angry. Not with him. And definitely not angry for not having jumped off the bridge when he'd had a chance.

"Pinky... stop it," Brain requested, rubbing his temples in an attempt to keep his hands from shaking. He wouldn't do it. He wouldn't do it.

"No! No I won't stop it! I'm mad at you, Brain!" Pinky yelled, but there was no bite to it. The angry tears kept there from being any. "I'm really, really mad at you!"

"I know you are. And that's alright." He reached out to stroke his lover's side, holding onto his waist when he'd tried to squirm away from him. "It's alright. You can be mad at me all you want."

Pinky looked him in the eye, blinking rapidly as confusion, anger, and sadness rippled through his gaze. "Really?"

"Yes, Pinky. You can. Because it's not the angel who lied to you." It was me, he kept the thought locked away. "I do need you, my dear." When the taller mouse continued to appear unconvinced, Brain cupped his cheeks and crushed their lips together until Pinky became malleable and complacent and kissed him back.

34. Fury (788)

Pinky's ears stayed high on his head, almost completely vertical, and his fur tingled and itched, crawled up the back of his neck, prodding and poking and poking and prodding- until he turned around and there was nothing there. Just the empty sewer channel. It didn't stop his quivering, even the muscles in his tail taut.

"Pinky! Stop dawdling, I need those glowsticks!" Brain hollered from further down the tunnel. "It's pitch black down here."

"Coming, Brain..." Pinky murmured, inching along after his husband, always watching behind him.

"Pinky, I can't hear you. This bracing dankness is muffling average vocal vibrations," Brain complained and Pinky could hear him tapping his foot on the concrete. Echoing.

"I s-said c-coming, Brain," he repeated a little louder, forcing his trembling knees forward.

The greenish-yellow glow illuminated his husband as he got closer, the big, chubby head attracting his attention like a lumpy, friendly nightlight. The electrical sparks between the tips of his fur, keeping it bristled, eased along with the pounding of his heart. Brain was here. He was safe.

He watched a grumpy eyebrow raise. "What's the matter?" As he asked the question, his gaze roved over Pinky's countenance and steadily widened. "Pinky, you're shaking."

A sound. Behind them. He heard it. He did.

"Pinky, there's nothing there." His fur fluffed out threateningly as Brain laid his hand to his side. "Pinky, it's okay. I promise you, there's nothing there. See?" Brain held one of the glowsticks out, shining them down the way they'd come.

"'Kay," Pinky answered reluctantly, his neck still twisted back to stare at the darkness.

Brain sighed and tucked several more glowsticks under one arm and took Pinky's hand with his free one. "Come, dear."

The two mice ventured deeper into the underbelly of the streets, laying the wiring for Brain's underground radio disruptor. He no longer trusted towers that could attract lightning at any given time. With the underground system, he would knock out all the radio stations so the unwitting populace would be forced to listen to his and only his and steadily become convinced that he should be their rightful ruler and take over the world! But Pinky's jittery behavior was distracting. At every sound and nonsound, the taller mouse would freeze and look behind them. Trembling, alert, scared.

"Pinky, for the last time, there is nothing there!" It was the seventh time he'd said it.

The longer they spent down there, the worse Pinky got. Brain's frustration with his husband bled into concern as the whimpery sounds coming from him seemed as if they were choking him. He was willing to stop where they were and climb out at the next opening they found. Pinky very clearly wasn't okay and the plan would have to wait in favor of getting him out.

"Sweetheart, we're almost there. Shh, Pinky. There's nothing there."

Nothing he said was working.

Anxiety mounting, Brain ceased the tiring attempts to get his husband to keep moving and wandered ahead to see where the next exit was. Feet flying out from under him, the megalomaniac felt his heart hammering in his throat as he was pinned to the slimy floor. A feral scent surround him, clogging his senses and the cry came unbidden; instinctive, frightened, "_Pinky!_"

And then the weight was gone, flung off him as a loud hiss ricocheted off the walls. He only took a second to try and calm himself, then fumbled frantically for the glowsticks he'd sent scattering. He shone one in the direction of the sounds. Pinky had the rat, the rat, pinned now, fur bristled with his lips curled in a snarl and his chest rumbled with growls. Real growls.

The rat slashed at him and Pinky swiped back. Rolling, wrestling, clawing, squeaking, biting until the rat scurried off down the tunnel. Pinky was left panting, the residual growls rippling through his body. His eyes were wild and he wouldn't stop shaking, not even after Brain made the slow, cautious journey to his side and touched him. The ginger brush against his bristled fur did something though, they made eye contact and Brain watched as the fury fled the darkened, blue gaze.

Worry came first, Pinky touching him all over, sniffing, caressing, making certain the rat hadn't hurt him. He gathered him up in his arms and held tightly, and Brain realized he too was trembling just a bit. Then he watched shame and fear and finally tears fill his husband's eyes. Crying, hugging, rubbing, Pinky clung tighter and Brain stroked his back, hoping the bristled fur would settle and he could forget that Pinky even had it in him to fight a rat, hating that he knew the reason why he could.

35. Delight (503)

Sometimes after love things, if they weren't completely drained from the evening's plan, they would explore each other quietly. Seeing only with their fingertips, tracing curves and mapping out indents and taking note of what caused a shiver or a purr or a giggle. Brain's lips quirked up far too often during these quests of touch, the knowledge that Pinky's eyes were closed and couldn't see him acting as a sort of "get out of jail free" card.

Though he simply couldn't help it when his fingers danced low on the lanky mouse's belly and he felt it hitch and heard the quiet huffs of laughter. Or when he'd trace his neck and jaw and cheeks and receive a purr for his efforts and a soft hum. Pinky was so easy to please, every inch of him buzzing with nerves of some kind. The electric pulses of sensation most likely overwhelming his wayward husband's simple mind.

While he enjoyed the attention he received as well, for Pinky was very good with his hands, sometimes he'd scoot away just enough to not be undeterred in his journey. And to get to his slender legs, he needed to be undeterred or he'd never make it. Pinky always got to his tail first.

So he'd stroke his thigh, teasing the inside only a little, enough to make him moan quietly and then he'd move on to his knee. He slowly scratched at the cap, he'd always cheat a little at this part, peeking one eye open to watch the way his calf jerked and his toes curled. Pinky's breathing always picked up, always expecting him to go for the soft indent behind his knee, but he never did. His fingers would tickle his shin and squeeze his calf, the muscles firm from dancing, and Pinky sighed happily when his hard work was appreciated. When he got to his ankles, he'd rub them loving, rotating them and drawing mathematical equations over the bump and down the top of his foot. It was hard to capture, but Brain was nothing if not persistent, and he would have every inch of his lover succumb to him. He'd use both hands, grasping his ankle with one as he smoothed his palm over his sole. The giggles that bubbled out were a touch different from his usual amused sounds, more frantic, more squeaky. His lover was sensitive all over, but he nearly lost it when he'd run a single finger over his arch.

He did lose it when he finally got back to his knee. Peals of laughter and desperate squeals had no hope of being contained once he began his final assault, clearly driving Pinky mad with it. Yet he never once tried to get away. Oh, he squirmed and writhed and begged, but his calves and thighs were strong enough to kick away from him if he really wanted to. Pinky delighted in the torment far too much to even consider it though. And Brain delighted in his delight.

* * *

So I swapped the original #31 with #75 in the list because of reasons.

Well, the first being I haven't written Rage yet xD And also that I felt there would've been too much angry feelings in this batch lol.

Other reason! Because I realized StarShineDC's next update in her second round of prompts "100 Feels" has a wonderful blip in it. It's wonderful and brilliant, and Satisfied is where Bay and Pinny are first mentioned. For those who read both of our works, I felt that having that jumping off point would help when they pop up every now and again in our works. Hope you enjoy!

Oh, and if you're not reading StarShineDC's things, YOU SHOULD BE! Go read all her things, now.

Also, Delight. I think that's one of my new favorites xD Yes. Actually... I love all of this batch xDDDD For it's own reasons. Fury and Empty get me a little still when I read them lol.

Next up: Submission, Infatuation, Anticipation, Pessimistic, Jolly


	8. 36, 37, 38, 39, 40

36. Submission (1143)

He followed the sound of sniffles until he determined they were just on the other side of the VCR. Ears flattened and a hand rubbing over his heart idly, Brain glanced upwards briefly and blew out a quiet breath. "Pinky, come out."

"Pinky's not here!" What was clearly his lover's voice snapped at him.

Brain's ear twitched irritably, though he kept a handle on it as he had been the one to hurt the sensitive creature's feelings in the first place. "Who am I speaking with then?"

"Remington!" A sock puppet popped out around the edge of the appliance, startling the smaller mouse with it's sudden, rather disturbing appearance. The lopsided button eyes and glob of yarn hair reminded him more of demonic, voodoo dolls rather than a child's fanciful arts and crafts project. Though he supposed they could both amount to the same thing.

"Remington," he acknowledged in a deadpan, debating whether or not to go along with the charade. "Pinky, please don't be a child about this-"

"I'm not Pinky!" If sock puppets could glare, Remington would be.

Brain sighed, shoving his hands in the fur pockets at his side. "Well, then. _Remington_, would you mind getting Pinky for me. I'd like to speak with him."

"He doesn't want to talk to you!" the puppet told him, a strand of his spaghetti yarn hair falling in his face. "You're mean!"

It stung, but The Brain reminded himself that Pinky was hurt and just as he never meant the cruel things he said to him when he was angry (like a mere ten minutes prior when he essentially told him that he was worthless), his husband didn't either. Even if Brain felt mean. It really only took a mean person to so frequently lash out at Pinky.

"Is there anything I can say that will make him want to talk to me?" he asked, brow furrowing. Only the puppet was looking at him, it wasn't as if Pinky could see through those misshapen button eyes.

"No! _Narf!_" The sock flopped from side to side.

Ah, so Remington had his tic. "Surely there's something," he tried, clearing his throat and glaring at the fact that he needed to. "Perhaps if I apologize?"

The button eyes stared. "Apologize?"

Brain nodded, tapping his fingertips together. "Yes, I- ...that is, I would like Pinky to know that I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" His husband's tone lacked the trust that usually filled it.

"Yes." His forehead creased further.

"Hmph." Remington turned up his nose, or what counted as a nose for a sock. "That's not good enough."

"What do you mean it's not good enough?!" Brain's short fuse was lit again that evening, his fists clenched as he debated marching over to the VCR and shaking his partner senseless. "Pinky, stop this foolishness-!"

"I'm not Pinky! I told you!" It was the break in Pinky's voice that had Brain smacking his hand to his forehead, mentally calming himself. His husband was upset, right. Getting angry was what got them into this mess in the first place. He'd come around.

"Right, you're Remington."

"That's right!"

Brain slid his palm down his face, covering his mouth a moment as he picked his next words, then clasped his hands behind his back. "Is there any particular reason you don't want to be Pinky?"

"Why would _I _ever want to be Pinky?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Brain prodded.

"Nobody likes him! Not even his own husband!" The sock puppet had slumped over, one of the buttons coming loose.

Brain didn't want to think that Pinky didn't have the energy to keep up the ruse. "Where would you get an idea like that?" he asked softly.

"You told him so!"

Ears perking only to fall immediately, the megalomaniac straightened his back. "I said no such thing. I will admit that I said some callous things, but I never once claimed not to like y- him. I'm married to him, I lo-... I... I feel much more than mild affection for him."

"No you don't."

"Pinky," he started, only to be cut off again.

"Remington!"

Brain pinched between his eyes, squeezing them shut. "I do. I really do."

There was a sob and the sock was dragged back behind the VCR. "You don't! If you did then you wouldn't say such mean things! You wouldn't make him feel so bad! You made me feel bad, Brain!" he cried, loud and broken.

In a few short steps, Brain was around the VCR, kneeling in front of his husband. Tears dripped down the taller mouse's cheeks, his eyes shut in a poor attempt to keep them at bay. Pinky hugged the sock puppet to his chest and refused to release his tight grip. "Pinky..."

"I-I'm no-ot P-p-pinky!" he wailed stubbornly.

"Yes you are," Brain murmured, taking his hands, easing the sock from them. "I know my husband. Now enough of that," he thumbed away some of his tears, "don't cry, my dear. You're not supposed to cry."

"B-but I-I'm sad!" Pinky tried to turn his face away, but his cheek was cupped and held firm.

"Don't be sad." The sock was finally tossed aside and Brain had both of his husband's hands in one of his own. "Don't do that, Pinky."

"But you m-made me feel like you don't love me! L-like you don't want me anymore!" Blue eyes finally opened, allowing more tears to escape. "Y-you told me to go a-awaaaay!"

"I'm so sorry, Pinky. I'm sorry." He rubbed his nose to his lover's brow, then pressed a kiss there. "I didn't mean any of it. I never want you to feel that way."

"B-but... but Braaaaain!" Pinky finally threw his arms around him, clinging tightly. Fingers carted through fur, lips sought every available spot to kiss. They toppled over from Pinky's shift in weight and Brain attempting to accommodate it, the taller mouse having tried to climb into his lap.

"Shh, Pinky," he soothed, sealing their lips together.

It was dusty behind the VCR, their fall sending little poofs of dust flying up, but they snuggled together anyway, Brain not satisfied until every tear had been kissed away and then some. He wasn't satisfied until Pinky's cries of his name turned from sorrowful to loving to pleading. Closer, closer, they needed to be closer and Pinky needed his love.

He kicked the stupid sock out of the way and straddled his lover. "I want Pinky. I only ever want Pinky," he told him, voice husky and thick with desire. "Don't ever change. Especially not to some demented sock."

"'Kay," Pinky breathed, wrapping his arms and legs and tail around him, touching all of him. "I'm me."

"Good." Brain kissed him again and rocked, the submissive squeaks he elicited pleasing him, making him certain that he'd wipe away any lingering doubts before they even got started.

37. Infatuation (277)

Brain told himself this infatuation would pass. Just like all the others.

One week it was a sea lion, then next a sock puppet. Oh, and he couldn't possibly forget the penguin, the celery stick, the woman at the shoe store, the man who drove the ice cream truck on Saturdays, or the rock. Then, of course, there was the horse. The only somewhat consistent object of affection in Pinky's simple, little life.

Since he'd noticed the pattern, The Brain was not at all concerned when he noticed that he was the next in line. While outwardly he did not reveal that he knew, his keen powers of observation would not have allowed him to miss the obvious signs of lovesickness he'd already witnessed a hundred times over in his cagemate.

The silly smiles, the coy looks, being on his best behavior all the time, the little gifts he'd been leaving him (though one could hardly call a blade of grass a gift, he supposed it was the thought that counted and it had given him inspiration for that night's plan), not to mention the way he batted his lashes and blushed and not-so-subtly-but-trying-to-be-subtle snuggled against him in their bed no matter how many times he was pushed away.

It would pass. He'd let Pinky have his little phase, he wouldn't risk upsetting the sweet creature. Besides, it would be over before he knew it. At least that's what he'd thought until he glanced at the calendar and realized his infatuation with him had gone on for a little more than a month. Consistently.

And realizing that made his heart beat just a little bit faster.

Oh.

38. Anticipation (246)

The plan had failed. Again. Fortunately this latest endeavor did not leave the two lab mice nearly as bumped and bruised as others had.

Still, Brain took his time with the first aid kit. He could feel the expectant blue-eyed gaze boring holes into his back, not unlike a child waiting for the ice cream treat he'd been promised. He did this every night.

By no means did Pinky want them to fail, no. His cotton ball of a brain couldn't make the connection between failures and after the plan, though they amounted to the same thing. As long as it was after the plan, that's all that mattered to his darling husband. After the plan meant love things, and while Brain looked forward to the opportunity to be as close to his other half as possible, locked together in bliss, knowing nothing else but the touch of the other's body... he took immense satisfaction in how much Pinky wanted it.

Slowly applying the antiseptic, Brain's ears perked and his gut rolled with arousal as he heard Pinky shift subtly on their matchbox bed, his little whimper going straight to his groin. "Braaaaain... it's after the plan," he whined, and when Brain glanced over his shoulder, Pinky was on his hands and knees, rump in the air and wiggling in his direction. "Brain, you promised."

"_Yes_, Pinky," he purred back, kicking aside the first aid kit and striding towards his waiting lover. They'd waited long enough.

39. Pessimistic (302)

She wasn't pessimistic. Just realistic. She'd read enough books to know that she didn't live a life that she needed to be rescued from. No evil stepparents. No curses. No being locked away in a tower. She lived with a family that loved, even if the way they loved wasn't the kind that Molly needed.

It made her feel rotten, to wish to be whisked away to some other life. Her parents didn't listen, her older brothers were bullies, her younger brothers were brats, and Mia, well... Mia wished she didn't have a twin sister to share everything with. They weren't at all like the twins she read about; twins who shared secrets and knew what the other was thinking and dependent on each other through thick and thin... they weren't like that. Molly never knew what Mia was thinking, and the same went for her. The only reason she knew Mia didn't want her around was because she told her.

If only mean twin sisters were in the fairy tales too. Maybe then she'd be rescued. But you couldn't be rescued from somewhere when you weren't in danger.

When a large-headed hamster snatched her up, taking her to some evil lair as a hostage, she felt bad for the surge of hope that rushed through her. Perhaps being kidnapped by a crazed, genius hamster was reason enough to be rescued. Taken away from the life she could only escape in dreams.

She felt even worse when the arms that did rescue her made her feel safer than any she'd grown up with. And when she looked up at the big-headed mouse and his odd blue-eyed companion, they made her feel more at home than ever before. Perhaps fairy tales could be like twins too, they didn't all follow the same pattern.

40. Jolly (343)

Cici didn't know how Pinny had managed it, almost reprimanded the child for it and snatched it back. All of her father's possessions had been safely stashed away and between her and Cyan, she knew where everything was. The sardine tin had been left to her, the item having more meaning to her than either twin who hadn't grown up with it staring at them with all it's secret secrets. She kept it in her room and not even her children knew where it was.

So that Pinny had so easily found it... She didn't know how him of all the great-grandchildren (since he insisted on calling her great-grandmummy, he called every one grandmummy or grandpa) had been able to sneak past her and Colby. But from the moment she saw the wrapped circle he cradled in his baby arms, she knew he'd found it. And perhaps that's why she didn't stop him, as she watched him toddle over to his other half and hold it out to him.

"Mewwy Chwis'mas, Bay!" he chirped, clasping his hands together as his bestest friend unwrapped the gift.

Most of the family didn't know of or remember the little world on a keychain. The younger generations took it as Pinny simply being adorable and finding strange knick-knacks lying around and deeming them presents (which he did for everyone else, except her, Bella, and Cyan, their presents were replicas of the ones their parents had given them after their second honeymoon). But Cici had seen it enough times to know, and she'd seen the same look of love in her father's eyes as she did in Bay's now when he gazed at the little globe.

Her father wouldn't have wanted it to just sit in the sardine tin for forever. And Cici didn't think she had it in her to ask for it back when Bay actually reached for a hug from Pinny and received a loving choke hold instead. The keychain grasped tightly in his little baby hand, and he didn't let it go all day.

* * *

Remington was inspired by the fact that there is someone named Remington Cornwallis at my school and I'm determined to meet him xD I work in the mail room of my school, so when I scan the student packages I have to make sure names match mailbox numbers, and Remington is just an amazing name. So yes, Pinky named his sock puppet Remington xDDDDDD

And Molly is Cici's given name and in this alternate universe she was never lost in the snow. I've been toying with alternate universe ideas and that's where Pessimistic came from lol.

Anticipation and Infatuation were just fun-fun silly-willy, and Jolly was more reincarnates. Pinny and Bay are adorable and infect many things.

Next: Grasping, Agitation, Calm, Astonished, and Loneliness  
Mixed feels with this next batch. In the best possible way. I think... poit.


	9. 41, 42, 43, 44, 45

41. Grasping (381)

"_I forget a lot of things, Brain, but I never forget that I love you."_

No one had noticed at first because nothing was really out of the ordinary. Pinky didn't always remember things, Pinky was sometimes confused, Pinky got lost going to the store on his own...

Nothing was different.

Until one morning Pinky wasn't in bed like he always was and instead across the room in the little wheel, running, which wasn't a complete deviance from the norm, but then he'd said: "Hi, Brain!" Not the good morning they'd had going on for the years they'd been married. "I like this new cage!" he said next, looking around with a smile. "It's got lots of rooms! Poit. But there isn't a water bottle, Brain. Don't you think we'll need that?"

Those turned out to be good days, even when Brain could do nothing but stare at his husband who didn't realize they were married. "What...? Oh, Brain! Really?! We're in love, married love? Oh, I never thought this day would come!" And he'd hug himself and laugh before he realized that he should be hugging Brain instead.

"What are we gonna do tomorrow night, Brain?"

And while he'd asked this from time to time playfully, long after taking over the world, with a knowing shimmer in his gorgeous gaze... Brain knew he honestly had no idea now. "You'll take over the world someday, Brain. Oh, look! More new friends!" he'd cheer and point across the garden at their family. Not even noticing the ballerina rose bush Brain had hoped would stimulate some of his memories. Memories and scents had close connections, but Pinky's sense of smell was keen and picked up many things which distracted him when his family would try to sit him down and see if anything would come of it.

The only thing that worked consistently was Brain's scent. On the days Pinky remembered him, he would hold him close before they fell asleep, and the routine would continue once his husband's face was buried against his fur. "I love you," he'd murmur happily, and when blue eyes met his, he could fool himself into believing that it had only been a phase. He would get better now. "Goodnight, Brain."

But each day it got worse.

42. Agitation (482)

He scowled intensely. His predicament, at first less than ideal, had steadily been... improving over the last few days. Something he hadn't expected to happen on the last leg of his journey, let alone in a pet store. Yet his company could've been worse. When it came to Autumn and Apple, he was at least familiar in dealing with their pet shop mannerisms and behavior patterns. Or so he'd thought.

Both were baffling creatures, they made very little sense, but what baffled him even more was that he didn't mind. What he constantly harped on concerning his twin sister and mother, these mice could easily get away with - being on the receiving end of only a handful of scowls and grumpy little huffs. If The Brain and Pinky had been there to see their grumpy-growly son as at ease as he was, then they'd have been shocked. Yes, both of them. Even his senseless mummy.

He told himself that it was due to their decency to allow him room in their cage and not the bizarre attraction that made his heart jump in odd patterns when Autumn giggled and twirled around him. He was used to twirling though, it shouldn't have affected him so.

And then there was Apple, who was as hyper as her mother yet somehow, when she spoke, she did make sense. In a childlike, somewhat convoluted way, but there was a thought process and conclusions being drawn and she did it all on her own. At a mile a minute, of course, but again... he was used to giddy bursts of exclamatory, fast-paced sentences. Though he would not admit it, Apple was a fascinating child and listening to her chatter on was a greater reprieve from his journey than he'd anticipated. It was familiar, and while he still scowled and grumped, there was a certain fondness there that he tried to keep a tight reign on and just couldn't.

Especially when the cheerful little chatterbox was bullied to the point of tears. There was a rat next door and he'd taken to ignoring the rude creature from his upbringing. He'd heard it enough times in his life; rats were rude, icky, and mean. He'd never seen it for himself, but Brain and Pinky had ensured that he never had to. So when he heard the rat next door scoff and sneer and attack a child needlessly, he deemed it unacceptable. Cyan wasted no time in sliding his slingshot from his fur pocket, ammo always at the ready, and fired a shot right at the buffoon's head. Irritating pest. If anyone needed to stop talking, it was him.

He looked down at the sniffling child at his side, feeling some of his agitation with the rat subside in order to properly comfort her. Someone needed to. Even pet shop mice needed to be loved. Despite their baffling tendencies.

43. Calm (572)

Brain was surprisingly calm for one of his plan thingies failing. Pinky was expecting a scolding, a bop, grumblies, anything but this strange quiet. His husband wasn't even pacing or wobbling about. He was lying on his stomach, cheek pressed against the ground as he stared out at him with what had been shocked eyes at first, but the shock slowly faded and there was just this... calm that was taking over the light in his pretty pink eyes.

"Brain?" Pinky crawled over to him, staying low on his belly to be as close to him as possible. "Brain, are you okay?"

"No, Pinky... but it's alright," he murmured, and Pinky could feel that the ground was a little wet. Why would it be wet? "It'll be... alright... yes."

He blinked at him, concerned with how tired he sounded. It wasn't bedtime yet. And he'd said no, no that he wasn't okay. "Brain, what's wrong?" Pinky bumped his nose against Brain's and rubbed. It was awfully cold.

"Don't fret, dear..."

"I'm not," he told him, but his voice cracked and his eyes were watering and he was so scared of the weakness in his strong husband. "Brain, just tell me what to do to help you."

The pretty pink eyes didn't hear his words, they were too busy staring at his own eyes. "Don't cry, Pinky. I hate it when... when you cry." His hand trembled as it reached to pat his cheek. It was stained with red.

A choked sound ripped at Pinky's throat and he knew now what was wet and why. "I'm n-not crying," Pinky replied, and he wasn't. Not a single tear had fallen while his heart broke as he turned Brain onto his back. There was a lot of red stuff coming from his side, his other hand weakly clutching it. Red stuff was important. It was supposed to stay inside. If it didn't...

Pinky moved Brain's hand out of the way and pushed down. He remembered that. It came from a little pamphlet in their first aid kit. Put pressure on it and wrap it with bandaids and egad, Brain was too pale and too shaky and too calm.

His hands were getting wet. "Brain, what do I do?" he asked past the lump in his throat and the dread in his gut.

"Pinky..." Brain only continued gazing at him, petting his chest. "You're so beautiful..."

Pinky didn't have any bandaids and he didn't know what to do and he certainly didn't feel very beautiful. But he held on and told himself to be calm like Brain and everything would be alright. The red stuff would stop eventually and then he could put it back inside his husband and he'd be all a-okay.

Somehow he'd managed to find tape and scraps of cloth and fashioned a bandage for him, then took him home to read more of the first aid pamphlet. He stayed awake for him all night, keeping the injured mouse awake for most of it as well, only feeling okay again when the pretty pink eyes squinted at all the red stuff dried on Pinky's fur and asked him what had happened in a very grumpy, though still tired and concerned tone.

But it was okay that he was tired, because he was grumpy and talking and seeing him and the red stuff wasn't coming out anymore and Brain was going to get better.

44. Astonished (362)

They missed their flight because Pinky wanted a pumpkin scone.

Cici sighed, slumping in a seat at their terminal where there had once been a little plane. The airport they'd needed to land at for this particular stretch of their world tour had been too small to allow for their private jet to have access, so they'd flown over on a little plane from the larger airport, which wasn't that big of a deal. Neither mouse had minded, except these planes did run on a tight schedule unlike their own and now they'd have to wait an hour for the next little plane.

The girl looked to the taller mouse. He was absolutely delighted in his scone, so she supposed it was a fair enough trade off. Glancing over at the payphones across the way, she debated calling her father to let him know they missed the flight. Ultimately she decided against it. It wouldn't put them that far behind schedule and they could easily make up the time in their own plane. He didn't need to know that they weren't on the plane, not when another was coming so soon. Satisfied with that, Cici leaned against her mommy-daddy, content to watch the news until it was time to board.

Until half an hour later when the latest breaking story was that the plane allegedly carrying the emperor's spouse and child had crashed into the ocean. The girl gaped at the screen. The little plane Pinky had been so excited to ride on until his stomach distracted him and claimed that he wanted a pastry had been tampered with and crashed right into the water. She turned and blinked at her mother, the blue-eyed mouse still playing with the wrapper his scone had come in. Oblivious to the horrific sight on the television screen.

"_The emperor's husband and oldest daughter were scheduled to board this flight. It is unlikely their bodies will be found-"_

Cici didn't wait another second. She dragged Pinky to the payphone, scrambling to call her father, cursing when the line was busy, and praying for the call to go through. He needed to know they weren't on the plane.

45. Loneliness (1137)

He was like an abandoned puppy.

Cyan's brow twitched as he watched his mother paw at the giant window between the two libraries. "Mummy, don't do that." It really wasn't very becoming.

"But," even his whimper sounded like a puppy's as he turned big, sad, blue eyes on his son, "I miss him. Poit."

Working very hard not to let that expression affect him (not to mention how ridiculous it was), Cyan folded his arms across his chest and perked his ears up. "He's onwy been gone five minutes." Literally.

"Egad, it's been forever!" Pinky pressed himself against the glass, then slowly slid down until he was sprawled out on his stomach on the window sill, only his nose squished against the actual window now. "Troz... when's he coming back?"

Sighing, Cyan strolled over to pat him on the head. If he was going to act like a puppy, then he'd get treated like one. "He'ww be back by dinnew, mummy. That's what he said, wemembew? Daddy pwomised to be back in time fow dinnew. That's onwy five houwahs away. Come. You can pway with me and Bewwa untiw then."

But dinner rolled around and with it came a phone call, requesting that his dinner be left for later and that he was sorry for missing the meal with his family. Cici had received the call and relayed it to everyone, siblings and cousins and aunt and uncle... and Pinky who begged her to call him back so he could talk to him, but by then he was in another meeting, so they could only leave a message.

"He said he'd be coming home as soon as he could," Cici promised her mommy, giving him two extra big hugs to make up for it.

Pinky appreciated it, but couldn't muster up much of an appetite so asked Carl to save his food along with Brain's and he'd eat when he came home. "It'll be like a staying home date." He hugged himself, the thought cheering him up some.

Bathtime rolled around and Bella was almost as upset as Pinky was that daddy wasn't there. "Who's going to be the super science boat captain of the banana fo fana crew on the eleven seas of cake?" she cried, shaking her toy boat in Cyan's face as Pinky and Cici tried to get both twins in the sink without drowning the rest of the bathroom. "Only daddy knows how to do it right!"

"I'ww do it," Cyan grumbled reluctantly to please his twin once Cici promised him an extra chapter in his story that night, then got soaked in a happy, spinny hug from the little girl because Cy-Cy was almost as good as daddy. They both scowled bunches.

After the twins were put to bed, Pinky and Cici waited on the couch, watching their shows together, and even the reruns of their shows that happened later on in the night. "Mommy, you should go to bed," his older daughter told him as she yawned and hopped off the couch, unable to make it any longer. "He'll be here in the morning."

Pinky shook his head. No amount of convincing got him to budge, so she left him with a kiss, a goodnight, and control of the remote. While he waited, Pinky asked for their food to be brought over to the couch along with some candles for a romantic atmosphere. He tried to find a good music channel on the TV, perking up as he stumbled upon one that was playing a Fred Spinatra song. Oh, it would be a perfect staying at home date for when his hubby came home from his busy day of world leader things!

Tail wagging eagerly, blue eyes stayed trained on the front door, just barely visible in the foyer beyond the living room. And he waited.

The door opened in the early hours of the morning, the emperor being brought in by his guards. Brain had almost commanded them to take him straight upstairs, but the light of the television in the next room had him perplexed. Wandering in, his heart gave a little flutter as he took note of the dripping candles, the cold food, the musical accompaniment, and his husband curled up in a ball on their couch, fast asleep.

Rubbing his hand over his heart, Brain dismissed his guards for the night and strode straight over to the adorable creature who'd tried valiantly to wait up for him. He took a seat beside him and stroked the soft fur he'd been unable to touch in the past twelve hours. It left him rather grumpy in the latter half of his meetings, a quick nap around eight removed some of his displeasure at having to be kept out so late. There was a reason he did most of his work from his own office.

But he wouldn't dwell on that, he could complain about it all he wanted tomorrow. Now he only wanted to go to bed with his husband. Brain bent down and nuzzled the top of his companion's head. "Pinky?" There was no murmur of acknowledgement, only a slight shift of his tail. Brain's lips quirked up at the sleepy attempt at a wag, then rubbed his nose firmer against his brow. "Sweetheart, it's time for bed. Come along."

Blue eyes didn't open, but his ears twitched up and he yawned squeakily. "Brain?"

"Yes, Pinky. I'm here." He nudged him over, having deduced that waking him up completely would be more trouble that it was worth, and gently lifted him into his arms.

"You miss'd dinner..." Came the tired mumble as he snuggled against his chest, winding his own arms around Brain's shoulders. "An' our stay a' home date..."

"I know, I'm sorry." He rubbed their noses together, smiling softly when Pinky's scrunched up. He hadn't really known anything about a stay at home date, but from the set up in the living room, he assumed it to be a flight of fancy on his whimsical husband's part. "We'll have another to make up for it, my dear."

"'Kay..." He yawned again, the contagious act getting Brain to yawn as well while he carried him to their bed. Pinky immediately snuggled up to him upon being set down, the megalomaniac halfheartedly tucking them in, more concerned with snuggling back rather than how well their blanket covered them. "Love you," Pinky purred in his ear as he settled down beside him. "G'night, Brain."

His heart trembled again. On the ride home he'd been lamenting that he wouldn't get to hear either of those important sentiments so dear to his precious husband. After a pause, which he spent pressing a kiss to Pinky's brow, Brain wound his arms around him and inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent. "Goodnight, Pinky."

* * *

Sorry for no update yesterday. After work I napped briefly, got dinner and Cold Stone with my roomie, napped some more, took a shower, and slept for 18 hours xDDDDD  
This past week has been hell sleep-wise.  
But now I intend to catch up. By staying up all night. Yes. I suppose technically the events listed above happened two days ago as it is now Sunday and because I woke up at 4 on Saturday, I stayed up all night. Baaaaad idea xD

So here's double PatB ficcage xDDDDD Woo!

Oh, btw. Autumn and Apple were created by StarShineDC and I borrowed them for Agitation. Yes. Some Cyan to combat the sadness of Calm and Grasping. But Loneliness is cute, right? RIGHT?  
lol

Next up: Lust, Longing, Tender, Hard, Rebirth


	10. 46, 47, 48, 49, 50

46. Lust (279)

Sometimes the burny, tingly feeling twisted in his tummy before Brain even started on his plan thingies. Pinky couldn't always help it. His husband was a very attractive husband and he loved being so close to him. Purring, he'd rub against Brain's back until the flustered and/or irritated megalomaniac waved him away. "After the plan, Pinky. You _know_ that."

The rejection always stung a little more when Pinky needed him so badly. It tempted him to play an unfair card and simply squeak at him, roll onto his belly and wiggle his hips in the way Brain liked to watch, but he knew how important the plans were. So he'd slink away, the fire burning in his belly and refusing to be smothered for what felt like forever.

But he could usually push the feelings away, distract himself with TV or working out or playing all sorts of fun-fun silly-willy games! Sometimes he distracted himself a little too well, though, and Brain would hit a block and need some love things to get him through it.

The problem with Brain, though it really wasn't a problem at all, was that he could never ask for them the way Pinky could. He'd stutter, blush, be extra grumpy and demanding when Pinky didn't catch on to the funny way he worded things. But if Pinky was patient enough, Brain would come and rub against him and brush his lips against his ear and then Pinky didn't need any words to know what his husband wanted.

He didn't want to wave him away from love things if he could help it, but sometimes his chubby hubby love was just so con-fused.

47. Longing (366)

He woke up alone.

It happened a lot more often than he was used to, but then again, he was going to all sorts of new places every night and he'd never done that before. It was exciting and fun-fun silly-willy most of the time, but not when he had these kinds of dreams.

Sometimes they were scary and he could never find anyone in his whole, big ol' family. Not even his chubby hubby. Or there'd be monsters eating everyone or never-ending mazes or worse... Brain saying he didn't love him anymore. He'd wake up crying and continue crying because no one was in the big bed with him. Within minutes of waking up, sometimes taking longer if he was really especially scared, he'd scramble from the mess of blankets to the phone and call the set of numbers he'd made sure to memorize. Sometimes Brain didn't answer, not expecting his husband to call at four in the morning his time, but most times he did and stayed on the phone as long as he needed, canceling meetings or postponing speeches while he soothed his lover back to sleep. When Brain didn't answer, he sat on the window sill and looked out at the stars and pretended he was helping Brain find his feck back when their lab was a lab and their plans were every tomorrow night.

The other kinds of dreams weren't scary, but they left him missing Brain even more. His touch, his scent, the way he kissed, the way they loved. He wanted to be held, wanted to hold, to lick and taste and make Brain shiver and cling to him. He wanted him in the bed, right up close beside him. Pinky would wait a while to call when his skin itched and his gut throbbed, each shift of the blankets around him torture. Sometimes Brain's voice made it worse, and he always seemed to know when it had been that kind of dream, but he'd talk to him in his smarty way and the itch would go away.

"I promise we'll be together soon," Brain's voice would murmur from millions of miles away.

And Brain always kept his promises.

48. Tender (387)

Pinky could take a lot. Pain was never really pain for him, if anything he took pleasure in what typically caused other people aches. It was why he giggled when he was bopped, whooped for joy when they were catapulted into a wall, doubled over with laughter when Brain took aim with a spoon and didn't hold back.

But it was pain just the same and Brain didn't dish out his punishments so Pinky could laugh about them (though it wasn't his intention to make him cry either, he really wasn't sure what his intention was when he hit him, only that it relaxed him some and Pinky didn't mind). Pain was meant for the plans, for the punishment, for when his annoyance with his companion blew through the roof. It was not for love things.

Perhaps it was because they endured so much when doing anything else that Brain kept his touches soft and light. Perhaps it was because he couldn't say the words that every kiss was filled with love and adoration. On the rare occasions where they decided one of them would have complete control for the evening and it would be Brain's turn, the thoughts he'd entertain of making his lover cry for him, beg for him, scream for him vanished as soon as he had that warm body beneath him and every touch was gentle and soothing and everything he couldn't give him when they weren't caught up like this.

He still made Pinky beg for him, by being so tender and slow, drawing out each climax until neither of them could take it anymore. And Pinky would beg for harder, wanted rougher, ask to be punished, could handle any pain because to him pain was pleasure. But despite the possessive growls and love bites and the way he gripped his hips so hard they bruised, Brain couldn't bring himself to do more than that.

Pinky deserved softness and love and warmth and would he want these things if Brain hadn't ingrained them in him in the first place? So he stroked his belly as he came down from his high and kissed his eyelids and nuzzled his neck. And Pinky would smile at him, the special smile that was just for him, and he knew he was doing good by him.

49. Hard (552)

The little boy twisted his tail between his hands and stared at his feet. This was a bad idea. Bad, bad, bad. He shouldn't have knocked on the door. No, it had been a quiet knock. Grandpa just shouldn't have heard it. But he couldn't blame his grandpa; his grandpa was amazing. That's why it was so hard to talk to him.

Actually, it was hard to talk to everyone, but especially hard to talk to him. And now he was waiting for him to talk. Standing there on his big desk, behind his little desk, waiting.

He could run. He was a good runner. And then he could sit between his parents, put his daddy between him and grandpa so he wouldn't talk to him at dinner. Then he couldn't ask him why he came in and said nothing and left and he wouldn't have to answer and then they could forget all about it. Apple could help with that. She was always talking to grandpa. She could distract him.

Jack's ears shot straight up as the emperor cleared his throat. His little head followed and his pink eyes were practically bulging out of his head. Brain blinked at him from behind his spectacles, having not anticipated that reaction. Every muscle in the spotted child's body was coiled in preparation to bolt. "Jack, you may say whatever you like." He picked his words carefully, it seemed anything could cause the child to clam up.

"I-I..." His shoulders hunched up and he released his tail to clasp his hands behind him. "I... umm..." He licked his lips several times, his voice hardly more than a whisper until he swallowed thickly. "I h-have a question, grandpa..."

The little boy was unaware of the strength it took for the older mouse to not roll his eyes. That would only result in five steps backwards; this child could not take it in the way others in the family could. "Yes?"

Jack's gaze flicked about the room, almost hoping Apple would burst in or his Aunt Bella would skip in with baby Nancy and leave her with grandpa. Grandpa looked at baby Nancy all soft and gentle and he let Apple hug him all time and hugged back a ton. Jack could barely look at his grandpa in the eye, let alone hug him. Even though he really wanted to. He was just really amazing, too amazing to just hug.

And he liked both of Apple's parents. And he liked both of Nancy's parents, most of the time.

He only liked one of his parents, and Jack looked very much like both.

He continued to fidget, crossing and uncrossing his legs and finally met his gaze again. "Grandpa, do you-? Do you-? Why don't you like me as much as Apple and Nancy?"

And Jack bolted. Not because his grandpa looked mad or scary or anything like that... no, it was because he'd broken him. He'd made him so sad, the boy was afraid his amazing grandpa was going to start crying and he couldn't see that.

It was even harder, though, to slink back to his office before bedtime that night and reach out for a hug and whisper, "I'm sorry." But he felt so much better for it, especially when he was hugged back.

50. Rebirth (873)

"_You are my sunshine..." _

Brain looked up wearily, his gaze drawn towards the scattered plans and formulae. Unfinished, impossible, failures. They were all failures, nothing was working. His arms tightened around his dear and choked back a wheezy sound at the thought that nothing _would_ work.

"_My only sunshine..."_

Pinky had been singing that ridiculous song when he'd first noticed. Days later than he should've. Days far, far too late. He'd looked up, saw his husband dancing in the square of sunlight glowing on the countertop, kicking up clouds of dust so fine that it appeared almost ethereal as he sang. Nothing was altogether that different. Not upon first glance and not to someone who didn't know Pinky as intimately as he did.

But he was a little chubbier, not in an unhealthy way but in the way toddlers retained baby fat. His fur was shinier, softer looking, newer. His tail was shorter, by only a centimeter, maybe two at the most. But he was different.

"_You make me happy..."_

By the time Brain got the results of the tests, he'd found that his husband had lost an entire year in six days. Every twelve hours he lost a _month _of his life.

"Pinky..." Wide pink eyes stared at his companion disbelievingly, but now he saw. Everything was younger. Each line in his face, each strand in his fur, each sparkle in his eye... "It... it hit you?"

The solution he'd made to prevent Snowball from continuously being a threat; his regression formula. It was supposed to regress the hamster's mental state to that of a non-gene spliced rodent. He'd come too close to harming his lover during their last encounter, and his pride of rubbing his world rule in his face was not worth the risk of Pinky's life.

But he'd missed Snowball, he knew it had not hit his intended target and he'd only had one shot. He didn't know where it had ended up. Unless... "No, Pinky... no, it didn't... please tell me it didn't."

"'Kay. It didn't, Brain."

"_When skies are gray..."_

The bundle in his arms squeaked, jarring him from his glazed over gaze, prompting him to shush and nuzzle. Bleary blue eyes stared up at him, worried about him even though soon they wouldn't be able to see anything. He'd already draped a black tarp over their cage, to keep out the light.

A tiny nose rubbed against his jaw, nudging him in the direction of his plans. He should be trying. He was close to finding an antidote, he knew it. He was so close. But he couldn't put him down. If he kept looking at him, kept holding him, maybe he wouldn't change anymore. He couldn't look away in the chance that when he'd look back he wouldn't be there. It had been particularly disturbing when he'd first buried himself in the project; he'd been with his year old husband one minute and the next Pinky's ears came up to his shoulder and he was whining about how he couldn't reach the water bottle anymore.

The months melted away much faster after twelve.

Brain cradled him closer as his baby eyelids drooped, praying that this wouldn't be the last time he'd see the brilliant color. The baby huffed out a shaky breath, the poor thing trembling as more clumps of fur stuck to Brain's palm. It wasn't supposed to work like this. He'd never wish this upon anyone, not even Snowball. He'd only wanted to regress him to a natural state, not... regress _him._ Sure, Pinky hadn't minded at first; he'd actually had great fun getting to sit on Brain's lap and getting carried around and getting away with doing baby things he normally didn't get away with. It had been fun until he'd opened his mouth to say "I love you" and all that came out was a squeak. It had been fun until Pinky tried to wrap Brain up in a hug and his little arms couldn't quite reach. It had been fun until Pinky realized there was only so far back one could go.

Now there were only squeaky cries, sounds so garbled that Brain couldn't tell who he was crying for anymore.

"You'll never know, dear," he murmured into the tiny ear, pressed a feather-light kiss to his brow. "How much I love you..."

His eyes finally closed on a hiccuppy sniffle, and from the way they had fought valiantly to stay open and fixated on him, Brain knew that it was for the last time. Unless he could fix it. He could, there was time, he could still fix it.

A tiny fist lifted, little fingers curling and uncurling against his chest as it bumped along, sightlessly seeking something. He stopped right over his heart, petting gently and Brain's chest tightened as he heaved out a broken sob. _No, don't comfort me. Don't, please don't._ But the little hand didn't leave and the tired, weak squeaks didn't stop.

He wouldn't allow them to stop, not when there was still time.

Brain raised his heavy head wearily, gaze on the clock that hung on the wall. The treacherous hands inched closer to the twelve.

"Please don't take my sunshine away."

* * *

Ugh... Rebirth... just gets me every time...

But Pinky's okay! I feel like I do this a lot, I end right before I reveal whether or not either of them will be okay xD It's a mystery. Though I suppose if you wanted them to not be okay, then there's that too. But in my head, Brain finds an antidote and gets Pinky all better and back to normal.

Yes.  
Also! Some adult content in here, but nothing too bad. I don't think... Except that Pinky's into bondage and S/M xDDDDDDDDDDD He's far too kinky for his own good, poor thing lol.

Oh, and baby Jack! Cici and Colby's spotted son. Silly baby thinks his grandpa doesn't love him as much as his cousins. Jack is painfully shy, would rather never speak at all until his little brother Neocortex shows up lol. Neo is the exact opposite, he always has things to say. He likes to feel important. Brat.

Next up: Amused, Broken, Abused, Tranquil, Composed


	11. 51, 52, 53, 54, 55

51. Amused (471)

"Grandpa, are you busy?" Neo demanded more than asked, striding right into his office from the playroom.

Brain's ears twitched and he glanced over at him. Today had been particularly slow, everything moving smoothly, so he was able to grant the abrasive child with immediate attention rather than having to engage in a fifteen minute attempt to persuade him to come back in ten minutes. "I have a minute or two to grant you, Neocortex. What do you need?"

"More than just one or two minutes." He crossed his arms and raised a brow, then hurried up the desk to be more on level with him. "Can you coach my baseball team?" Brain stared at him from just above his spectacles. "Me and Jack are team captains and I need a coach because no one knows how to get their heads in the game. Except Uncle Cyan, but he's grumpy that he didn't get picked to be on the same team as Aunt Autumn."

His lips couldn't help twitching. "Cyan's playing baseball with you?"

"Yes. He's on my team. With Pumpkin, Nancy, Rosie, Rodoric, daddy, and Uncle Romy. Jack's team has Apple, grandma, Kodak, Dior, Aunt Bella, Aunt Autumn, and Uncle Terry."

"That's only eight per team." Brain observed, removing his spectacles to clean them.

"We couldn't get anyone else to play, so we're sacrificing shortstop," Neo explained. "So will you be our coach?"

The offer was intriguing, and touching to a degree. It took a lot to get Neo to ask for help in something, even if this something was a simple game being played with the family. "Has Jack gotten someone to coach his team?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "But why should that matter? It's not my fault if he wasn't smart enough to ask you first."

"Neo." The tone of his voice was enough of a reprimand, though The Brain couldn't quite hide all of his amusement. This child was impossible.

The boy at least knew well enough to appear abashed. "What? I'm recognizing a valuable asset when I see one." He glanced up, thinking a moment, then clasped his hands together and looked at him pleadingly. "Please, grandpa?"

Brain had to keep his hand over his mouth when Jack found out what his little brother had done, their mother separating the two and offered to coach her oldest's team to be fair. Neo's smug look didn't help matters, but at least his father flicked one of his ears and scolded him for antagonizing his brother on purpose.

The emperor's family couldn't play baseball to save their lives, more than half of them preferring to make up their own rules rather than follow preexisting ones, but it was an amusing event to witness nonetheless. And Neo's team won, obviously.

52. Broken (219)

He couldn't remember how it had happened, just that it had and it was never going back to the way it used to be. His tail would be forever kinked. He blamed the careless handling of the scientists, always plucking up the babies by their tails and tossing them around like hacky sacks. It hurt from time to time, a dull ache, a constant reminder of how fragile even a genetically altered mouse could be. He'd had four breaks before reaching adulthood, and the fifth occurred on one of his earlier take over the world schemes before Pinky had learned to properly use the first aid kit.

He supposed he should be grateful that it wasn't a more serious injury that would stay permanent, after all, his tail was already broken. But he'd snapped at his cagemate, warned him to be more capable and less bumbling, then retired for the evening. Pinky had apologized and that was what mattered in the end; he was genuinely sorry.

Brain just didn't realize how sorry until they were married, the crooked tail having suffered another slight injury and was carefully being bandaged by his husband. It startled him some when he realized Pinky was kissing each bend, paying special attention to the fifth break, the one he'd been scolded for months before.

53. Abused (268)

It had been a long time since he'd needed to bop Pinky. Over the months, the need had been presenting itself less and less, what with other ways to express his insatiable need to touch his companion. And the fact that he finally had the world in the palm of his hand, ruling alongside his husband with their family steadily growing and filling their castle as time went on.

Just because he bopped him less, however, did not mean that they were any different than normal bops. Pinky still laughed and delighted in receiving them, while Brain still felt some sort of relief from it that was still relatively inexplicable. Normally these occurred in the privacy of their quarters or his office or anywhere really where it was just the two of them.

He hadn't expected Neocortex to wander into his office one afternoon just in time to witness one of the few and far between bops. The child gasped loudly, capturing both Pinky and Brain's attention from where they stood atop his desk. For a beat, the grandparents and the grandson were at a face off before Neo puffed out his cheeks with a stern look on his face and pointed right at both of them. "ABUSE!" he shouted, startling the married couple into hurrying down as the boy ran down the hall, still yelling "abuse" at the top of his little lungs.

"Wait, Neo! Come back! I like getting bopped!" Pinky tried to explain as they ran after him.

His giggles reverberated down the hall as Brain granted him another. "Don't make this worse, Pinky."

"'Kay!"

54. Tranquil (364)

Pinky would sing to Brain on his bad days. In bed together, he'd curl around his husband and caress his big ol' head. It was still big, so all the smarty thoughts and biggly-wiggly words must've still been in there. They were only hiding, that's what he told himself. They were tired from working so hard, so they deserved a rest.

He told himself a lot of things on the bad days (Mr. Hals-Timers had borrowed him for a bit, the thoughts were tired, he was sick and needed rest). So to stop his own thoughts, Pinky would watch the love of his life as he sang to him. It was quiet, like when they sang their first dance song together. Their song. He'd always sing him that one, then all the others would just pop into his head. He'd rather songs be in his head than other things. As much as he wanted to help Brain, he didn't want to do the thinking for them both all the time. He knew he did it wrong lots, even though no one told him that he was, but surely thinking didn't make people so tired and grumpy. Though that would explain a lot about his hubby.

But it made him sad more than anything. And Pinky was fairly certain his lover hadn't been so sad all the time. Not when they were together. It made him feel bad for staying sad while they were together, so he sang to be happy. He knew how to be happy for them both. He knew how to do that.

And when he was happy, Brain was happy. He'd press his head into Pinky's hand and make content, sighing sounds. He wouldn't say anything, but he didn't have to. It was in the air and Pinky could feel it. Just like always. Brain never had to say things for him to know and that didn't have to change just because he was sick.

After every song ended he'd whisper a thousand "I love you"s to make sure Brain still knew as well. If he knew nothing else on his bad days, Pinky would make sure he knew that.

55. Composed (850)

"Whatcha doing, Brain?" The graying, aged, yet somehow vibrant, vivacious blue-eyed mouse popped up on his desk beside him.

"I'm composing my memoir, Pinky," The Brain answered him and reached out to give his husband's hand a pat. While he could still remember on his own.

Pinky's face scrunched up. "Egad. That sounds painful, Brain."

"Not nearly as painful as when you attempt the Sunday crossword, my dear." The emperor rolled his eyes, the remark as fond as it was true. "No, Pinky, a memoir is a collection of memories, written down and arranged in such a way to tell one's life story. And since my life story is more than worth telling, I have taken it upon myself to forge one." He gestured to the ledger before him, taking comfort in writing a portion of his first draft in a log book. "It's important work, Pinky."

"Like taking over the world?" he asked, blinking at the words scribbled on the pages.

Brain opened his mouth to refute whatever ludicrous remark he anticipated his husband making, but remained silent a beat as he considered it. Then he reached over and tweaked his ear, garnering his attention from scanning the words he most likely didn't understand. "Yes, Pinky. Exactly."

"Oh, can I help, Brain? Please, oh, please can I?" Clasping his hands together, Pinky swayed from side to side as he encroached upon Brain's personal space.

He subtly nudged him back a bit, so the lead wouldn't be smeared in his lover's exuberance. "You've already helped, my dear. You've assisted in the creation of most of these memories."

Pinky preened, even if he had no idea how he'd helped with that, but his spectacled chubby hubby love said that he had, so it must've been true! "Oh! _Narf!_ Can I write my own scribbly-scrabbly mower?"

"Memoir, Pinky." Brain's lips quirked up as he pointed to a stack of blank paper at the corner of his desk. "Feel free."

"Troz!" He skipped, a little slower than he once had, over to claim a floppy piece of paper for himself. Then popped back over to ask for a pencil which Brain granted him with an eye roll and a fond nuzzle. Whatever his wayward husband came up with would be adorable if nothing else. Exceedingly nonsensical as well. "Brain? Umm... how do you start a mimosa?"

"Memoir," he corrected again automatically, already back to composing his own. "Start with your favorite memories, Pinky. Just write those down."

"Like that time you, me, and Bella went swimming in the big pool of cake batter?"

Brain's brow creased. Carl had been baking a cake for an important function he'd been hosting for their European contacts and Pinky and Bella had wanted to see it. One thing led to another and they'd all ended up in the bowl. Both Carl and Brain had not been entirely pleased, though their chef eventually found some humor in it. "Yes, Pinky," he sighed to make it easier on his husband. "Just like that."

"'Kay!" Oh, this would be a joy to read.

Several minutes went by where only the sound of dual pencils scratching could be heard. Suddenly Pinky was waving his paper in Brain's face. "I'm done, Brain! I've written my meenie miney mo!" He showed it off proudly. "Want to read it?"

It had taken him less than fifteen minutes, but he supposed that was to be expected with his attention span. "Of course, dear. Let me see."

"_Zort!_" Tail wagging, he handed it to him, then skipped away to the other side of the desk. "Let me know how you like it!" he called out.

Brain shook his head and adjusted his glasses, though he supposed there was nothing wrong with encouraging Pinky's energy levels. They were decreasing, not at an alarming rate, but it was happening and it was odd to say the least. Pink eyes glanced down at the slightly crumpled piece of paper and read.

_I have a lot of happy memories of happy things and happy people and those are the ones I want to remember because those are the important ones. But my most happiest, favoriteist, importantest memory was the day I met Brain because none of the other memories would've happened without that one. Brain is my happy. And that's important to remember. Just like "I love you"s and "goodnight"s._

_The End! Haha- narf!_

Brain read it five times, and then five more times because his rapidly racing heart demanded it of him. Of course he knew this, Pinky told him all the time how happy he was because of him, but to see it written down... It was Pinky's memoir and it was perfect.

He looked around to see where his husband had flitted off to, saw him perched on the window sill making pictures in the clouds, no doubt. "Pinky," he called out to him, a torrent of emotions welling up inside him when Pinky turned around, the sunlight framing him and making the gray in his fur sparkle. He didn't want to forget. "It's brilliant."

* * *

Silly Neo pops up twice in this batch xD  
He's just all kinds of adorable, brat that he is. He can't help it though, he's a middle child~

Kinda ending on a sad note with Tranquil and Composed. Just because of Brain's Alzheimer's and all. But Pinky's memoir is perfect, no? :heart:

Next up: Glad, Stress, Serenity, Colorful, Coping


	12. 56, 57, 58, 59, 60

56. Glad (594)

Cici worried. She hadn't wanted to have a middle child. Being in the middle was synonymous with being forgotten in her mind. No one noticed you sandwiched between your more demanding siblings. She and Colby had discussed it, decided there was nothing wrong with spacing out four children. She'd loved growing up in her family, after all, and thought the dynamic worked. With Jack and Neo's four month age gap, she figured she was off to a good start.

But she couldn't have a fourth baby. She loved Rosie, did not regret having her in the slightest, but whenever her special, beautiful baby needed the extra attention her condition required, all she could see was her youngest boy's pout and she worried. She didn't spoil him or let him get away with his attitude, but she did try her hardest to give him the one on one attention she knew he valued. He valued it with everyone. It didn't matter if it was his grandpa, grandma, daddy, mommy, or Jack even. Neocortex wanted to be special to all of them for his own merit and couldn't see that he was. He was a jealous little thing; she remembered holding him as he cried about how Pumpkin was stealing his big brother because they were playing together. He didn't understand the concept that no one was stealing anyone and she worried that the new baby had something to do with it.

"_You always hold Rosie! Mommy, it's my turn!" _

"_Jack, you're my big brother! You're supposed to play with me!"_

"_Why doesn't anyone listen to me?"_

"Mommy, what do you think I should do?" Cici asked her own parent as he helped Pumpkin with her sparkly arts and crafts project. "I can't give him special treatment, but I can't ignore him. What if it makes him resent Rosie?" Or the rest of the family. He'd already had a talking to with Brain, making her feel positively miserable that her children were the ones to question his love. At least Rosie was remotely well-adjusted despite being deaf, she had one child who wouldn't ask questions that would make her father cry.

"Oh, baby snow mouse, you have nothing to worry about!" Pinky giggled, patting her on the head. "Neo loves his sistah! _Zort!_ And he's verrrrrry happy."

Cici stared at him. "Are we talking about the same kid?"

"Blue eyes, white fur, scowly-scowl?" Pinky defined to clarify.

"Alright. I guess I'm just not following," she sighed.

"Troz. You'll see," he assured her, placing a sparkly sequin on her nose.

And she did, while walking down the hall to ask her daddy a question concerning a certain policy when she saw the kids all race past. Little Rosie tripped, fell right on her face and started to cry. The brother that went up to her was not the one Cici had expected. Neocortex plucked her up and bumped his nose against hers, soothing her sniffles with a half-hug, half-carry. He set her down after a minute and signed something to her, Cici couldn't see what, but it made Rosie giggle and smile.

"Come on, Ro. I know a shortcut that'll get us to the kitchen before everyone else so we can snag the best cookies," he told her verbally and with hesitant hand motions, taking hers in his once he'd finished and led her down the hall.

Neither child saw her, but Cici liked it better that way, so, so glad that she didn't have to worry about her middle child. He was going to be okay.

57. Stress (590)

They'd never had fights that lasted until bedtime.

Pinky squirmed uncomfortably under the sheet, his cheek pressed firmly into the pillow as he stared at the wall facing his side of the bed. He hadn't really thought about sides of the bed since their little matchbox and sponge beds. In this big ol' bed... they didn't really need sides. They could sleep wherever they wanted to.

Wiggling a little more, he froze suddenly and reminded himself that too much wiggling would bother Brain and he was already all grumbly-mad and wasn't he grumbly-mad too? Well... he had been. Now he wasn't really. Not so much anyway. He still wanted Brain to apologize, he remembered that's what started it. He'd wanted an apology and Brain wouldn't give it and he'd gotten upset, then mad, then they stormed off.

In a big ol' castle it was easy not to bump into each other and end up having to make up. They didn't bump into each other until bedtime, when Brain silently got all the way on one side of the bed and Pinky quietly got all the way on the other.

Oh, right... he was so far away, Brain wouldn't feel any of his wiggly-restlessness.

Pinky bit down on his lower bit and rolled over. He couldn't even see Brain from the other side of this big ol' bed. He missed their little one, when they had no choice but to press up all close and cuddle. Twisting the edge of the sheet in his hands, he sniffled and opened his mouth to call for Brain. But no sounds came out.

He couldn't sleep. No, he couldn't sleep without saying "I love you" and "goodnight". Those were so very important, what if something happened and he never got to say them again? What if Brain got upset (even more upset than now) and thought he'd forgot or didn't love him anymore. Sometimes Brain worried when he didn't always say it.

Slowly, Pinky edged closer to the middle of the bed. He had to say it. He couldn't sleep. Even if Brain was asleep, even if Brain didn't want to say it back because he was angry-mad-angry, then he'd still say it anyway. Because Pinky didn't ever want to be mad enough where he didn't say those special words to his special hubby.

Pinky could finally see him; he was rolled over on his side too, facing away from him. Lifting a hand, he reached out to touch him and hesitated. Brain was awake still. He could tell by the way he was breathing. He couldn't sleep either. Pinky brought his arm back in and tucked it under him, huddled in a small ball as he watched Brain breathe for a few minutes.

The words were caught in his throat, words that normally came so easily. It wasn't that he didn't feel them or couldn't bear to say them, no. That wasn't it at all. He didn't want Brain to not care about them, to tell him not to say them, or worse... pretend he hadn't heard them at all. He didn't have to say them back, but he needed to hear them.

Closing his eyes, Pinky turned his face into the pillow and murmured loud enough so only Brain could hear. "Goodnight, Brain... I love you."

He kept his eyes squeezed shut and didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until he heard the sheets rustle and felt an arm drape over his waist. "Goodnight, Pinky." And they could both sleep.

58. Serenity (477)

It took a while for The Brain to notice that the window had opened. Pouring over his notes, his research, ev ~aery last detail of what had been his plan. It disgusted him a little, how much he still wanted it to work even knowing that...

Well. He could want it to work and still not go through with it. He wouldn't. The cost of loss was too high. But it was still tempting and it was still a shame that the power was there, right in his grasp, yet he couldn't touch it. The upper right corners of the pages in his log fluttered, cluing him in to the open window. There was also a slight chill, as they were riding along the coast on the midnight train, the marine layer forming and creeping towards the shore. Brain looked up to scold his companion, it was too cold, too late, and too many other things that he was too grumpy to list, but all his complaints died on his tongue.

Framed by the moonlight, Pinky sat on the edge of the window, his legs dangling over the side and his arms bracing himself by his sides. His back was to him, tail swishing lazily to the beat of the wheels clacking on the tracks. The stars encased him in a halo of sorts, the shine reflected off his glossy fur, rippling in the breeze. His ears perked and Brain hadn't realized he'd made a sound - a breathless gasp - until Pinky looked over his shoulder, eyes dark compared to the bright moonlight in his fur. So dark, but they held their own stars as they gazed upon him.

Pinky smiled. "Want to watch with me, Brain?"

Carefully, wary but unable to resist, the smaller mouse draped his legs over the edge of the window as well. He perched beside his friend and looked out at the expansive ocean. While they sped by at how many miles per hour, the water hardly appeared to budge an inch. It was dark with stars on the waves, like Pinky's eyes.

Brain chanced a sideways glance, catching a glimpse of them once more before flicking his gaze up to the moon. It was full and vibrant. Over the rumble of the train's engine, he could hear Pinky humming. Before he could stop himself, Brain placed his hand over his companion's and held tight. The hums hitched and ceased, the megalomaniac could feel the blue eyes boring into him. Questioning, confused, happy. So happy.

The humming started again as Pinky looked out at the water, legs swinging back and forth with his hand remaining under Brain's. The warmth the latter found there was astounding, frightening even. But he only squeezed tighter and kept it there. It was in his grasp, so he would touch it. No one could tell him otherwise.

59. Colorful (296)

Cici needed hide and seek. From the moment Pinky cradled the little mouse from the snow in his arms, he knew that that was the game she needed. Well, that and peek-a-boo. But peek-a-boo was like training for hide and seek.

She was awfully quiet for a baby, except when she was really, really sad or really, really happy. He liked the happiness best, it was all giggles and clapping baby hands that reached for him, that needed him in a way he couldn't really remember being needed for. It was delightful!

When they first started playing hide and seek though, Cici didn't seem to have much fun with it. He'd set the baby down in a hiding spot, then count to ten (or close enough to ten), then go right back to where he left her. That was how she needed it. She needed to be found right away every time until she stopped looking so sad. Even if he'd just set her down and moved out of sight for only a little while, by the time he came back his baby would have flat ears and lie all hunched up like she was under the bench. Cold and waiting.

But then she'd see him, his big, bright, blue eyes captivating the baby and, it would take a while, but eventually she'd reach for him. He'd sweep her up and spin her around until she was all giggles and smiles again, then started the game again. Cici needed hide and seek because she needed to know that he'd always find her.

And somewhere in that baby mind, she could remember seeing only white and white and white... and then the prettiest shade of blue in the whole world took her home. It always found her.

60. Coping (628)

"Brain?"

The mouse who was (but didn't always seem to be) his husband looked up and stared at him blankly, the response conditioned rather than of real acknowledgment. Pinky wrung his tail, twisting the appendage so hard it stung his eyes. Of course, he couldn't tell if the tears that formed were from the pain in his tail or the pain in his heart.

His family kept telling him not to. They told him not to do a lot of things now that Brain was sick (he would get better, he would, he would), but he didn't ask for much from his hubby now and he _needed_ this.

It had been a whole month. He could keep track of the days better now, his family helped him mark the good days on the calendar and he'd cross out all the bad ones in between. He had a whole page of Xs from September going into October.

"Brain, can you-? You see it's- well... poit." Pinky nibbled on his lower lip as he watched the little attention he'd managed to capture start to fade in the pretty pink eyes that were still the most pretty things he'd ever seen even when they didn't see him back. "Brain. Can I...?" He slowly knelt down in front of him, feeling only a little bad for disrupting the drawing he'd been doing, and was very careful as he reached out to grab his hand (he'd scared him once) and then the other. His husband let him, still staring at him.

Pinky just focused on the feel of their hands touching. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head from left to right, making sure no one was around. It was just them. It was so rarely just them. Pinky met his husband's stare, keeping eye contact as he lifted his hands and placed the weathered, shaky palms against his cheeks. He held them there, in case Brain didn't remember what to do because there were so many things he didn't remember to do now.

It wasn't the same, but it was close enough because it was them and Brain still loved him even if he didn't remember it. Brain had remembered for both of them for so long, it was only right that Pinky do the remembering and loving for him now too. His eyes wanted to cry and his chest was really tight and the trembling wasn't Brain anymore, but he tried very hard not to show it. It only upset Brain when he was upset and they couldn't both be upset. Not today.

"It's my birthday, Brain," he told him, squeezing the hands framing his face and he offered him a watery smile. "Oh, don't worry about a present. Troz. This is all I want." He nuzzled gently, didn't want to scare him and kept eye contact because that was very important. He didn't want to miss it if his eyes remembered him even just a little bit. "I love you."

They sat like that for a while, until he really couldn't keep from crying anymore and let go of his hands so he wouldn't have to feel the tears he always didn't like. But the hands stayed. Pinky blinked, confusion replacing the loneliness as he looked to his husband. The smaller mouse's brow knit together. He looked just as confused as Pinky felt, but also... a little scowly. His thumbs brushed away the tears as his grip tightened a touch. Warmth filled the taller mouse, flooding his cheeks in a way that hadn't happened in so long, and the crease in his husband's brow smoothed out.

Brain gave his face a light pat and slowly drew back. "I love you, too," he murmured. And he hadn't even needed his post-it.


	13. 61, 62, 63, 64, 65

61. Boisterous (700)

"Pinky! Close the window! What do you think you're doing?!" Brain shouted at his companion, struggling to keep most of his attention on the road in these hazardous conditions while his airhead of a husband kept playing with the passenger seat window.

"But Braaaaain!" he whined, though how he managed to whine while looking so cheerful was beyond the genius mouse. "I want to see a whirly wind!"

Oh, merciful heavens... "Pinky, there are no tornadoes here! This is only a regular storm." His grip on his steering mechanism tightened.

The heavy rain made for little traction on the winding road. Not to mention the wind factor kept pulling him to one side, leaving him struggling to right the vehicle enough that they wouldn't be in any danger of a head-on collision with a car in the opposing lane. Not that anyone would be fool enough to be driving out in this weather. They certainly wouldn't be if his plan to mine the precious metal that resided in Yosemite hadn't failed due to a cave in that destroyed all his equipment. Dwelling on that recent, bitter sting only led to him swerving back into their lane. There was a better time and place for thinking of such things.

Water droplets splashed his side. "Pinky! Close the window!"

"Whirly wind!" Pinky only laughed, hanging half his body outside of the car, tongue lolling to catch raindrops in his mouth. "Brain, if all the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops, what kind of rain would that be?"

A chill had settled in his bones that had nothing to the do with the wind and rain coming into their car. He couldn't take his hands off the wheel. "Pinky. Close the window." If he went flying out of their vehicle and over the edge... "Please."

"Poit. 'Kay." The drenched mouse obeyed, hopping onto the ledge on the door and nudged the switch to roll the window back up until it clicked. Pinky plopped down to the passenger seat and shook himself off. Brain couldn't even complain from the sprinkling he was on the receiving end of, though he wished his arms were long enough to flick the lock for each of the doors in the car.

The wheels slid a little more. Headlights in the next lane passed them. Brain clenched his miniaturized steering wheel tighter and grit his teeth as a bolt of lighting split the dark sky.

This was ridiculous. First chance there was to stop, they would pull over and wait out the storm. "Pinky, do not touch that switch," he growled out, taking the next curve of the mountain slowly.

"I wasn't gonna!" Pinky protested, sitting down abruptly right next to the door handle, arms crossed.

"I don't have time to quarrel with you, Pinky. Get away from the door now-_nyaaaah_!" They had to swerve suddenly, another car passing them by and Brain slammed on the brakes out of sheer reflex. The car slipped along the road and Brain was sure they would hydroplane right over the edge. But they slowed down enough that by the time they bumped into the side of the mountain, it was merely a gentle thud. The air bags didn't even go off.

In a daze, Brain put on their hazards and parking brake and just sat there a moment. He hated storms. "Brain?" The smaller mouse blinked and turned towards his husband who'd finally listened to him and was far away from the door now. He was right next to him. Now that he wasn't so focused on driving, he could hear the rolling thunder quite clearly. It made his fur bristle until Pinky smoothed his damp hand over his arm. "Don't worry, Brain. I'll be your red rubber nib nob nub until the storm's gone over the rainbow."

Brain released a sigh and slumped into his husband's side, not even caring that he was still soaked. At least he hadn't flown out the stupid window. At least they hadn't flown off this stupid road. And as the lightning lit up their little car, Brain decided he'd rather appreciate a red rubber nub in the form of his nubby lover. "Thank you, Pinky."

62. Placid (313)

He didn't often watch Pinky sleep. The baffling creature didn't require many hours of rest or recuperation, despite his abundance of energy. They would go to bed together, Brain certain that he fell asleep first more often than not as he would always feel the gentle petting of his lover's hands on him even in his dreams. Come morning, said lover had already been awake for going on two hours, running on his wheel or eating breakfast or playing dress-up. Where he got the energy, Brain did not know nor cared to consider it. He chalked it up to the otherworldly quality of his companion and to question it would only lead to headaches.

Brain treasured, then, the moment where he happened upon his slumbering lover. Pinky in sleep completely contradicted his nature. Everything he knew and loved about the mouse vacated him for the time being, and even then Brain still found himself forever attached to this creature - his husband and not. To see him still and calm, the eternal smile not quite gracing his lips, but still they held some sort of light that spoke volumes of Pinky. No one really saw him like this.

Just as he alone was privy to the image of Pinky ensnared in the throes of passion, he also was the only one to enjoy this scene of the lanky mouse suspended in sleep. Eternally beautiful, eternally perfect, eternally his.

And he could never contain the tickling tendrils of pleasure and satisfaction when he'd brush his lips against his brow or ghost his fingertips over his cheeks and Pinky would murmur his name. Only his name. Soft and sleepy and so full of love.

"My sweetheart," Brain purred as Pinky rolled towards him, curling up by his side and nuzzling his thigh warmly. "My dear... I love you."

On deaf ears, the words fell easily.

63. Tired (255)

He'd failed earlier than normal. It bruised his ego, burned his pride, and convinced him that he could easily concoct a second plan and implement it that night. The second they returned to the lab, The Brain dove headfirst into his schemes, certain that something involving tire pressure and badly placed speed bumps would surely win him the world.

Pinky was surprised by the change in routine. After the plan, the one plan, came snuggles and love things and more snuggles. He'd actually been excited, they got done with this one so fast, they'd have time for lots of love things games! He fetched all their favorite props and laid them out on the bed, ready to ask Brain for his opinion when his ears perked and the scritch-scritch-scritching of the pencil assaulted them.

"But, Brain," he tried, "what about love things?"

"Later, Pinky. We have plenty of time."

So Pinky busied himself with a few of his games, but ended up falling asleep on their bed. It didn't last long, his body sensing that he wasn't under the covers or on his pillow or curled up with his husband. And they hadn't said goodnight, and goodnights were very important. Sleepily, he sought him out, nearly stumbling over the megalomaniac sprawled over unfinished, sloppy blueprints. Fast asleep. Smiling fondly at his silly hubby, Pinky scooped him up and carried him to their bed.

"Goodnight, Brain. I love you," he yawned, sliding under the covers holding his lover in his arms. There was always tomorrow night.

64. Bliss (310)

Pinky was his happiest when showered with unwavering attention.

Not that he demanded attention by any means, no. Most times it didn't even seem to matter to him, easily capable of entertaining himself for stretches of time. But even then he received a lot of attention. His children and niece and nephews would come to play with him, then when they got older, their children came to play with him! With his grown-up children he still got to spend time with them doing other things, and when they got their spouses, it just meant more fun-fun silly-willy people to talk to! It was always very happy to live in a big ol' castle to get attention whenever you needed it.

But it was the best attention of all when it came from his hubby after a long day of ruling the world (or sometimes right in the middle of it!). His pretty, pink eyes would look at him from over his dashing spectacles and melt his heart into one big gooey mess. They'd pet and purr and play their own special love things games, and Pinky could give as much attention to Brain as he wanted right back. He didn't have to worry about being a distraction, not when they were the only two in their room under their big fluffy blanket and loving each other.

He would kiss Brain all up and down his body, then feel his hands cup his cheeks and make their eyes meet. There he would say the words he couldn't always let himself say and kiss him so deeply until he didn't know the floor from the sky. Then they kept kissing. Even long after the love things, drifting to sleep in each other's arms, Brain's lips would bump against his and fill his heart with the happiest of butterflies all through the night.

65. Neglect (353)

He'd ignored the signs at first because at first they hadn't mattered.

After one night of having the newfound pest around, Brain decided to perform a quick examination to determine how healthy she was (i.e. whether or not Pinky had brought a diseased mouse into their cage). Nothing blatantly stood out to him. Her fur was matted and stringy, it looked like it'd been a while since she'd last been groomed. She was smaller than most mice her age, or what he assumed her age to be from her eyes being open and the fact that she could not speak yet. Thin too, he noticed she was nowhere near the pudgy, roundness most babies were gifted with. Her tail was bruised; not yet broken, not beyond repair, but someone was careless with it and it made his own ache in sympathy.

And she didn't squeak.

While above such primitive displays of communication, Brain was not a stranger to baby-ese. Infant mice squeaked the same way human babies cried. It was a call for attention. Even genetically altered ones would display this common trait of infancy.

Yet this baby didn't squeak once.

She'd cried the night before, old enough to produce sounds of sadness he supposed, and made Pinky go to her instantaneously to care for her. Coddle her. Love her. The things babies required.

But he ignored the signs. Determined to get her out of their lives and return to routine. If he thought about it, then he'd have to question delivering her back to her home. He'd have to deal with Pinky's moral compass, his too big, too blue eyes asking why. If he thought about it, he'd picture the kind of environment she'd be raised in whenever his mind drifted to the night his companion found a baby mouse in the snow. He'd have to deal with his own guilty conscience.

If he thought about it... he wouldn't give her back. And that couldn't happen.

"She's healthy," he told Pinky, and the delighted mouse wasted no time in scooping her up and spinning her in the air. "She's perfectly healthy."

* * *

Sorry for a lack of updates. I've been sleeping like a normal person and it's been dreadful xD I've gone to bed at 11 each night and have been waking up at 6. It's ridiculous.

Boisterous was inspired by repeated viewings of Brain Storm and My Feldmans, My Friends lol.

And Placid is just full of "awwww".

Next up: Fine, Question, Energetic, Noble, Disgust


	14. 66, 67, 68, 69, 70

66. Fine (457)

When they first explained to him that Brain was sick, a look of concern shimmered on his face for a moment, then replaced by the glow of his smile as he assured them all that his chubby hubby love would be just fine. He could beat any bad ol' sickness. Orange juice, chicken noodle soup, and bendy straws were sure to do the trick. So he went to the kitchen and got it himself and set it up on a little tray to have breakfast/lunch on a bed. It was half breakfast because of orange juice and half lunch because of soup and half bed because of bendy straw. You could have meals on beds even if it wasn't a honeymoon, it was very nice for sick people too!

Except Brain didn't look very sick when he saw him, just old and adorable, like always. But the more he looked at him, the more he realized that he looked sad too. Not grumpy-growly, not angry-mad-angry, but sad. Sad never suited his Brain.

Clearly he was sick then. So Pinky brought him his get-better things and gave him a get-better kiss to his lumpy ol' round big head and told him he'd be fine. It made Brain cling tightly to him, so tight that it almost hurt, but Pinky didn't mind because his husband needed him and it was awfully nice to be needed. Pinky promised to take care of him until he was all better, and with plenty of kisses and soup it would be faster than he could yell poit. It made Brain smile a little, which made Pinky quite certain that he'd be fine.

He told him it everyday, just to remind him because he could see that he got scared sometimes. Especially when he got things mixed up. Once he even forgot he needed his little glasses! Then didn't know where they were even though he put them in the same spot for all the time they lived in their castle.

"Oh, Brain," Pinky had giggled, placing the little spectacles on his husband's face for him. "You can't get so much better that you don't needed your glasses anymore! _Troz!_ They're far too fetching!" Then Brain pulled him into one of the most intense kisses he'd ever had ever! It made his knees turn to chocolate milk, all liquidy and sloshy, and it stole his breath completely away!

But it left him feeling a bit sad too. Like Brain wasn't going to get better and that was his way of saying so.

Pinky told himself not to think such thoughts. Of course Brain would get better, he was his husband and he took very good care of what was his. He'd be fine.

67. Question (279)

"What do you want to be when you grow up, baby snow mouse?" Pinky asked the three-month-old as they enjoyed a tea party together, all dolled up in their finest.

The little girl's eyes lit up and she set her tiny, flowery teacup down on its saucer so she could properly wiggle and bounce and raise her hand excitedly. "Oh! Oh, I know!" When she was certain she had Pinky's full, undivided attention, despite having had it when the question was first posed, Cici clasped her hands together and brought them to her cheek. "I wanna be Brain!"

Pinky had to hold his tummy while he laughed. In her frilly blue dress with all the lace and bows, she hardly looked like his scowly-grumpy-chubby bestest best friend. Though now he couldn't get the idea of Brain in a pretty-witty dress out of his head and that was even more adorable and fun-fun silly-willy. "Really, Cici?" He smiled brightly at her as he asked, taking a sip from his imaginary tea.

"Oh, yes!" She nodded so quickly, it was a surprise one of the little blue bows tied around her ears didn't fly off. "When I grow up, I wanna be Brain." Folding her hands in her lap, she sighed happily, then remembered another part of what she wanted. "And a fairy princess."

"Well, you're certainly a smarty enough smarty mouse to be just like Brain," Pinky praised, patting her on the head. "Just make sure your head doesn't grow too big. Then it'll be much harder for you to wear hats."

"'Kay!" Cici agreed, lifting her cup to toast him, giggling when he bumped their noses together as well.

68. Energetic (363)

Cici didn't know how he did it, but she was so happy he could. While their world tours and their big ol' family gave him plenty to do, she knew Pinky had missed having playmates the most. Bella still played, and Bleu to an extent (Pinky called their fashion designs 'playing dress-up' when his niece wasn't in earshot), but all the others had grown up and were finding grown-up things to do by the time Jack came along. But she supposed he came at just the right time.

As did the siblings that followed. "No! It's my turn, Rosie!" Neo demanded of his little sister, the baby watching his lips form words with wide, pink eyes and a bright smile. "I want grandma to piggyback ride me now!"

"Neo, you've gone twice as many times as the rest of us," Jack sighed, cursed with being the voice of reason. "And sign to Rosie. You know better."

"I know better," Pumpkin piped up, tugging on Jack's tail, then proceeded to sign "I love you" to the current youngest who signed it back with a huge smile.

Neo pouted. "I don't know how to sign "it's my turn" yet, Jack." Before he could continue any more grumblings, Pinky had scooped him up alongside Rosie and spun them around.

"Oh, silly Neo! _Narf!_ I can piggyback more than just one!" he laughed, squishing them together to nuzzle both at the same time. "I can piggyback four!"

"That's how high you can count, grandma!" Nancy declared, bouncing up and down, her hand raised in the air as if in one of grandpa's classes. "Can I be one of the four too? Please, please, please?"

She was snatched up next, followed by Pumpkin even though it turned out only three could fit on his back. His tail curled around little Rosie, lifting her well off the ground to her delight, solving the problem. And this was after the games of hide-and-seek, tag, and their rhythmic gymnastics competition. Yet his energy remained just as high as the childrens' and when their gazes met for an instance as Cici watched him play, she could see that he'd never been happier.

69. Noble (230)

"Thank you, Super Mouse." Brain rolled his eyes, but gave his ridiculous, costume-clad husband a pat on the head. "Now put me down."

The heroic hero did as commanded, beaming at the megalomaniac. "Right, citizen! I'm glad you're safe! _Zort!_"

Yes. Safe from whatever hallucination Pinky had conjured up that most likely didn't resemble a broom, duct tape, and a can of beets. But it was his little game and even though he'd disrupted him in the middle of formulating his next scheme, he supposed he could let it slide for the sake of his husband's alternate persona. He had, after all, only wanted to save him and keep him safe, like a good husband should.

Before Brain could turn his attention to more pressing matters, Super Mouse caught his hand in his and raised it to press a kiss to the back. Blue eyes shimmered behind the mask and Brain's heart stuttered for but a moment, skipping as if he were nothing more than a silly schoolgirl. All at once he was blushing and glaring and scolding the hero for making a move on a married mouse. The caped crusader only giggled, he knew that Brain knew who he was, his secret identity a secret between them. Still, Super Mouse saluted and bowed before flitting away to fight more crime.

Brain rubbed his cheek, still scowling after him. Idiot.

70. Disgust (288)

Nightmares weren't often and most times gone before Pinky even realized they'd been there at all. When he had such a warm, soft, loving husband beside him, it was easy to forget them. But there was one that made his stomach churn all through the night and his skin feel like it wasn't his skin and like he couldn't breathe.

He couldn't remember much about the time a mean ol' spooky-faced demon monster took over his body, but he couldn't remember much about anything after all. What he could remember, though, was helplessness as the monster was mean to his husband and the sudden spike of fear when Brain almost turned on the machine that...

The part of him that knew what it would've done protected him by forgetting and left room for him to endure the slimy sensation of someone else inside him. Someone else moving for him, when he couldn't move at all. And his voice was in his head all the time, taunting and taunting and taunting. It bopped Brain back and chased him with mean, shiny objects that were meant to hurt. It tried to hurt Brain. And in the dreams... sometimes it did. The worst part about those nightmares was that they had really happened once and when he woke up it didn't feel like it was completely over. His skin itched and itched and itched and he couldn't even scratch it because he couldn't move.

Except to roll over to face away from his husband and curl up so small in the hopes that it would lessen the twisting of his stomach and keep the rise of burning bile in his throat at bay. He wouldn't hurt Brain. He wouldn't hurt him.

* * *

Good balance here xD But they're all short so I'm uploading a bunch of long ones right after lol. Also because I skipped a day (or two) of uploads because I'm so tired all the time. This is what it feels like to be an adult and I don't like it xD Except money. I can't complain about the money.

Next up: Lively, Power, Pity, Humiliation, Rage  
I call this next set Pinky Pain. Three out of five have something happen to him... I wrote these out of order! I wasn't torturing him all in one blow, I swear!


	15. 71, 72, 73, 74, 75

71. Lively (1047)

"Pinky..." Brain groaned, one arm flopped over his eyes as he tried to ignore the way their matchbox bed bounced each time his husband rolled over or shifted or did anything except sleep. "Close your eyes and be still."

"But I can't," came the whiny reply and another wiggle. "Brain, I'm not sleepy yet."

How he had any energy left in him baffled the exhausted mouse. Not only had their attempted scheme taken them long into the night, but the scientists had insisted on running them ragged through a plethora of mazes earlier that day and, on top of that, they'd gone for three rounds of love things. Brain was ready to sleep for a week, if only his constant companion realized that he needed the same thing. Because he did. There was no feasible explanation for Pinky not needing sleep, unless somehow in the gene splicing his basic needs were disturbed. Not that his husband wasn't already disturbed.

"Count sheep," The Brain grumbled, debating the pros and cons of rolling onto his side to better ignore him. It would create distance, but it also required moving. Nope. He was staying on his back.

"But I get bored after one!" Pinky's voice was muffled, leading Brain to believe he was now on his stomach, face smushed in his pillow.

The megalomaniac heaved a sigh. "That's the point, dear. You're supposed to get tired of it."

The bed shifted again and he could feel his lover's eyes boring into him, blinking at him. "Well, why would I keep doing it if I'm only gonna get tired of it? Troz."

"So you will eventually fall asleep, Pinky." He could feel a headache creeping in behind his closed eyes and grit his teeth. If this didn't stop soon, he would have to sleep for two weeks. Perhaps a month. And that would not bode well for his plans to take over the world. One could not do so while sleeping.

"But where's the incentive in that? Doesn't make any sense at all, Brain."

The only clue that he was remotely tired was in that he was being difficult. Other than that he sounded completely awake. Completely energized. It had Brain's fur prickling. While his lover's abundance of energy came in handy and he didn't love him any less for it (perhaps even more, since their third round would not have occurred if Pinky hadn't the energy, he'd moved so well and he could do nothing but enjoy and enjoy), there were times where he wished there was an off switch. This was one of those times. He'd turn it back on when he was ready for round four. Brain huffed out an irritable grumble, he was even too tired to be embarrassed by the ease those thoughts came to him.

"Pinky, if you don't close your eyes and go to sleep immediately, I shall have to hurt you," he told him, though it came out as more of a growl.

At first it seemed to work. There was no rustling or wriggling and there was silence. Brain started to drift when there was a sudden jolt as Pinky flopped back over to face him and protested, "But I caaaaan't! _Narf!_"

"Pinky!" Brain snapped, rolling over to glare at him, though it fell flat with the dark rings framing them. He didn't have the energy to maintain his anger anyway, and looking at Pinky's wide blue eyes didn't help matters. He took a deep breath, released it, and stared wearily at his husband. "Why can't you sleep, dear?"

"I'm not tired." Pinky squirmed a little, pressing his cheek into the arms head he had pillowing his head. For some reason it wasn't as irritating when Brain saw and felt the motions. "I want to run on my wheel or color or play with my Adam Levine Chia Pet. Poit."

It was difficult to keep his eyes open, but Brain managed, though he couldn't quite bite back the yawn he breathed right in his lover's face. The idiot needed to go to sleep; if he didn't, then he'd only be grumpy and irritable in the morning which would make The Brain grumpy and irritable and then absolutely nothing would be accomplished. "What can I do to help you get tired?"

"Umm..." It was clearly the wrong thing to ask. Pinky crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out, so Brain knew they'd be there a while if he didn't take action into his own hands.

He reached out, guiding Pinky onto his back and began to rub circles on his belly. "Close your eyes and be still," he requested again, softer.

Pinky relaxed under him, but his eyes remained open. "Brain-"

"Shhh..." Brain soothed, pressing closer and never stopping the gentle motions. It made his own heavy lids fall, he couldn't keep them open anymore. "Shhh, my dear."

The taller mouse didn't make another sound save for his even breathing, and he didn't move a muscle as Brain pet him. But even with his eyes closed, the smaller mouse knew. He knew Pinky was still looking at him.

Moving his hand from his belly, Brain traced his fingers up to where the gorgeous blue eyes would be and felt for his lashes. "I'm closing my eyes. You have to as well."

"'Kay," Pinky agreed. It was easier said than done as they kept fluttering open each time Brain's hand left them.

Finally he just held them down. "Keep them closed." He felt Pinky nod and the pair waited for the taller of the two to begin drifting off, to get to the point where the megalomaniac could lower his arm, curl up, and go to sleep. He hummed softly, a lullaby of sorts, in the hopes that it would assist. His mouth was too tired to sing to him, but it could manage this. His ears twitched when he heard a squeaky yawn and a soft sigh, hope flooding him. "That's it. Go to sleep, sweetheart. Come with me, we can dream together."

"'Kay..." he mumbled his agreement and Brain removed his hand, seeking his husband's and lacing their fingers. And while they'd already said it for the night, the sleepy mice could only repeat it. "G'night, Brain... love you..."

"Goodnight, Pinky..."

72. Power (2250)

"-forty-five blocks of cheeeese! Take one down, pass it around, ninety-six blocks of cheese on the wall! Two hundred seventy-three blocks of cheese on the- _narf!_" Pinky's ears perked as the door behind him finally opened and his first instinct was to look over his shoulder to see who it was. A loud bang resounded as he'd only managed to bonk his nose on the metal table-not-a-table that he was all stretched out on. His hands and feet were spread out, each tied to a different corner of the table. Or, what would've been a table if it wasn't standing up straight. "Hello?" he called out, once his laughter at bopping his own nose had ceased. "Matt Damon? Is that you? Troz!"

He listened hard for a response, but he didn't get one right away. Oh, he hoped whoever had come to visit him would talk. He hadn't talked to anyone except that mean ol' Snowball ever since he'd first gotten all tied to this table. Not even Brain! He didn't know where his chubby hubby was or how long it had been since he was put in the dark, spooky room, but he hoped it hadn't been too long. Brain did have the tendency to fret.

His tail began to wag in earnest as he detected footsteps. If it was Matt Damon, he hoped he'd get an autograph! But when the shadowy figure came around to his side of the table, Pinky feared that whoever it was was far too small to be Matt Damon. Oh well. That was alright. "Hi!" he chirped, moving his wrist enough that it could pass as a wave. "You know, you should really turn on a light. _Zort._ I can't see a thing in this fog!" Except for a little red light up by the ceiling that had been on the whole time he was in there.

"Just a moment, Pinky. I'll try and find a light switch." The familiar, low tone had the blue-eyed mouse's ears quivering.

"Brain! Oh, Brain, you found me! _Narf! _ I knew you would!" he cheered, squirming about as best as he could with the ropes so tightly pulled. His tail was free to move as it pleased, but there was too much excitement for the appendage to deal with it all on it's own.

Pinky squinted hard when a bright, white light buzzed on directly above him. He giggled as colorful dots and speckly spots painted his vision for a few minutes, and when they cleared he gasped and purred for the large-headed mouse he so loved standing before him.

"Brain, I missed you so much!" he gushed, craning his neck forward in his attempt to get to him.

"Calm yourself, Pinky. It's only been twelve hours," The Brain scoffed, approaching the suspended table cautiously, examining it. "Was anything done to you?"

He shook his head quickly. "Nope! Snowball just stuck me in this room and laughed his mean ol' laugh and said you didn't have a chance and then- egad, Brain! We have to stop Snowball!" Pinky tugged at his restraints, sudden urgency coursing though him. "He's gonna try and take over the world before you!"

Brain held up his palm to ease his frame of mind. "I've already stopped him, Pinky. It's all taken care of."

Blue eyes blinked dumbly and he stopped his writhing. "You did? Poit."

"Yes. It was fairly simple. You know I can handle my own against that dratted hamster, darling," he assured him as he continued to inspect the device holding Pinky, surely looking for a way to get him off it.

The smile and words of agreement that Pinky would've shared died in his throat as his ears twitched rapidly to alert him. _Darling?_ "Brain?" he called out, no longer able to see him as he'd gone behind the table again.

"Don't worry, Pinky. I'm right here." It was soothing and he wanted very much to be soothed suddenly. "I'll get you off of there soon."

"'Kay," he replied, twisting his neck around to try and see his husband. In his attempts to do so, the knots tying his hands to the table thingy caught his eye. The metal loops they were wrapped around were right there. All Brain had to do was untie the knot. "Brain?" he tried again, looking straight down, noticing that his chest was moving up and down a little faster.

"Pinky, really. Be patient," came the slight reprimand, followed by a sigh. "I'm only checking to make sure there aren't any traps. You never know with Snowball. It's a simple precaution."

Oh, well. That made sense. After all, a trap was what got him here in the first place. He'd been out on an errand for Brain and Snowball had left a trail of frosted, sprinkly animal crackers for him to follow. Pinky just couldn't resist! They'd seemed innocent enough anyway, even when he followed them to the back of that old, creaky van. And wasn't he surprised when the doors just slammed shut!

He released a breath he'd been holding when Brain came back around. He was worrying for nothing! His chubby hubby love was right there and would get him down lickity-split! Oh, and he was carrying something to help him now. "Is that your ribbon dancer, Brain?" he asked, smiling at the stick with the long whatchamacallit dangling off the end.

There was a pause as Brain tapped it against his palm. "Yes, Pinky," he said carefully. "It's my ribbon dancer."

Egad, he was right! "Oh, are you going to save me with your rhythmic gymnastics again?" Pinky beamed at him, lashes fluttering as he recalled how romantic it had been when he'd done it the last time. He'd lost, of course, but it was the thought that counted! And now it was just the two of them, so nothing could possibly go wrong.

Except Brain snorted and had to look away when he mentioned the gymnastics, as if he were trying to hide a laugh. Was Brain going to laugh? It was adorable when he did, but he didn't see anything particularly funny about gymnastics. Besides, his lover usually got all embarrassed and scowly when he mentioned it. "You make it too easy," the large-headed mouse mused quietly, and Pinky tilted his head because he didn't quite understand. Brain then cleared his throat and spoke loud enough for him to hear. "No, Pinky. We're going to use it for a game."

Pinky's tail twitched and his head cocked to the other side. "A game?"

"Yes, a game. You like games, don't you?" His husband's voice took on that soothing tone again and it made his insides want to melt and he really wanted a hug.

He didn't ask for one though, instead he nodded. "Yes. Poit. I like games, but don't you think we should get out of here first, Brain?"

"There's no rush, Pinky. No one is here but us. We have time," The Brain assured him.

"Oh. Well, alright." He supposed that made sense. "What's the game called, Brain?"

"Power." There was a gleam in the pretty pink eyes he loved so much, a gleam that was only ever for taking over the world or...

"Is this a love things game?" Pinky asked, perking up. Oh, but they didn't have any of their special city slickers slick stiff stuff. Well, maybe they wouldn't need it for this.

There was another snorty-laugh sound. "You could call it that." He let the ribbon part of his ribbon dancer slide through his grasp until it fell to the floor. Then he jerked it back and-

Pinky wasn't sure how to feel about that. He'd laughed when the ribbon that didn't feel very much like a ribbon hit him, but deep inside it didn't feel like something he wasn't supposed to laugh about. Especially when it started to hurt more after it had already hit him. A stinging owie, almost like when Brain would bite him in love things and then kiss it better but more like when he got a cut on his finger and Brain put stuff to clean it on it.

He was still trying to decide how he felt about it when it smacked him again. Okay, that was definitely not a ribbon. Ribbons were soft and pretty. This was hard and leathery and quite ugly. And Pinky didn't think many things were ugly. It hit his stomach, making it quiver and his tail jerk and his fingers and toes splayed at the impact. He looked down at where it got him. There were two criss-crossy marks showing through his fur. His giggles started to fade.

"Brain? What's this game supposed to do?" he asked, not minding the being tied up part necessarily, but this hitting thing was very strange.

"It shows how much power I have over you," he explained, twirling the stick in one hand. "It's purpose is to get you to submit to me."

Pinky blinked at him, the word registering in his little mind. "Oh, Brain. You don't have to go through all this to do that. You know that all you have to do is touch that spot on my knee and I'll submit to you." Sure, sometimes he drew it out because it was fun to be difficult and make Brain all growly, but it really wasn't very hard at all for his chubby hubby to seduce him.

Suddenly Pinky realized he really, really didn't like this game. His knee jerked from where the mean ribbon struck it and it wasn't until he tasted coppery stuff on his tongue that he realized he'd bit it when he cried out. That hurt! That wasn't fun-fun silly-willy at all! "Brain, I don't like this game," he managed, eyes growing wide when he saw the thing come back. "No!"

It hit the same spot and made tears spring to his eyes, his fingers clenched into tight fists as his entire leg burned. "_Yes._" He just barely heard the familiar word over the drums pounding in his ears. They fell as the leather bit into several other parts of his body, each one hurt more than the last.

"Stop it!" He tugged hard on his restraints, if not to get down then to at least protect all his soft spots. But they wouldn't give, he couldn't get away. "Please, don't! I don't like- _ow_! Stop!"

This wasn't his husband. His husband would stop if he asked him to stop. His husband wouldn't hit him like this in the first place. And even if he did, it would be an accident and he'd say sorry. This wasn't Brain and it scared him because he didn't know who it was or how to get him to stop.

He couldn't hear anything over the crack sound it made, the only warning before it hit him. Pinky didn't even know what kind of sounds he was making, except that he had to be calling for Brain. He needed him, where was he? He was ready to be rescued now. It hurt, it hurt, _it hurt_.

But then there were no more sounds. There were no more new aches, only lots and lots of old ones. He trembled, waiting for the buzzing sound in his head to go away and wondered if he should open his eyes that had somehow gone closed. His face was really wet and when he licked his lips all he could taste was salt. There was a strange sound breaking through the not-noise-noise and his fallen ears almost lifted to hear it better. It sounded very broken. Each wheezy sob he could feel in his own achy chest. It was a sad sound and he wanted very much to help whoever was so hurt enough to be making that sound.

"Pinky?"

The wince was automatic, his whole body bracing itself for a moment, but nothing happened. It took him some time, he replayed the sound of his voice over and over to make sure that's what he was supposed to sound like, then he forced his eyes open, bleary and gummed up from the tears.

His husband was there and Snowball was on the floor by him, a broken mechanical doohickey tossed off to the side along with the ribbon dancer. Pinky stared at the scene for a while, taking it in as a whole until Brain made a hesitant motion towards him. Their gazes met, the pretty pink eyes not gleaming or anything now, but wide and scared and as broken as the sound he could still hear and feel.

"Brain?" Pinky knew he'd said his name, but it didn't come out sounding like it.

Then Brain was moving so fast, he didn't even see him untie the knots, didn't even notice it until he was gingerly lowered into his husband's arms. But right, he couldn't get down unless Brain untied him. Untied the rope from those little metal hooks. He was still shaking, he could feel it a lot more now that he was pressed against the familiar warmth and scent and... It was Brain. He rescued him, he was okay now. It wasn't going to hurt again.

"Shh, Pinky... my precious dear, it's alright now. I'm here," he soothed, and Pinky realized the broken sound was him and wasn't it strange he didn't even know he was crying?

But Brain had called him his dear, and that meant everything was going to be okay.

73. Pity (426)

It was hard to pity her when she was so happy. Which was probably a good thing, Ballerina Rose didn't like seeing others sad. Her mommy understood it and so did her brothers, but her daddy would look so sad sometimes when he'd accidentally forget to sign what he was saying, more prone to large gestures when he spoke.

Rosie was alright with it though, she liked watching him pace and wave his hands about all silly-willy, it reminded her of grandpa and that was especially funny because they had a hard time getting along because they were so alike. And grandpa had been the one to say it was a good idea for her to learn to read lips so she wouldn't be so dependent on one form of communication. Especially since her big cousin Feta couldn't see to sign or see her sign back. She could see him talk with his mouth, then she'd flit over and take his hand and write what she'd have to say in return on his palm. He liked reading, so she hoped it felt something like that.

Other people in the family looked sad sometimes too, when music would play or the TV would be on and she couldn't hear anything, but she would smile and sign and go up to the speaker to feel the vibrations of the music and turn the subtitles on the TV so she could read what was going on. She could see lips murmur what a shame it was that she'd gotten sick, poor thing, and other things she couldn't really understand. It wasn't the end of the world because she couldn't hear, she couldn't even remember what it was like so she didn't know how to miss it.

Sure, it got frustrating sometimes, and sometimes she needed to just take a moment and cry, but it was never for very long and her smile was always quick to come back. Especially since she had such a wonderful, loving family to take care of her. Sitting between her grandparents, she beamed as she watched her grandpa sign and leaned against him to feel his voice as he spoke to his eternal companion, musing over how fitting it was that the baby their snow mouse had named for Pinky was the outright happiest of the three. Her grandma's giggles bounced her a little and she smiled and smiled and didn't feel sorry for herself at all.

As her grandpa tweaked her bow and her grandma flicked her flower barrette, Rosie felt very lucky.

74. Humiliation (1229)

There was a precious ruby that had all the right properties to power The Brain's neon nuclear nova neuromatic. Pinky didn't know what it did. Something about something. He was gonna scramble atoms or some such and turn all the wonders of the world into landmarks praising his glory. Pinky was just excited that rubies were shiny. And the bops he got every time he pronounced his machine's name wrong.

To get the special ruby though, they had to borrow it from a fancy prince. So Brain decided they would go undercover to a fancy function he was hosting. They got to dress up all pretty (well, he did in his ballgown, Brain on the other hand looked more dashing than anything). Their goal was to infiltrate the annual ball, "where you will seduce the prince, and while he is effectively distracted by your 'feminine wiles', I shall slip into his quarters and swipe- ah, borrow the gem and we will make our escape! Is that clear, Pinky?"

"Yes!"

"No questions?"

"Umm... oh! Just one! Will we get to do the electric slide?"

Oh, he received a lovely bop for that!

Donning his dress, wig, and make up, Pinky tried to woo the prince. And it worked! Oh, wouldn't Brain be pleased by his good work? He stole a glance at his cagemate from across the dance floor, delighted to see the happy glint in his eyes.

The prince invited him to this quiet, out of the way room where they could talk in private. To keep him distracted (and to be polite, because he was dressed as a fine lady after all), Pinky went with him. And at first it was fun! There were little snacks and he'd lit the room with scented candles (moonlight's paradise, if he was not mistaken) and complimentary beverages. But the drinks didn't taste very good, they'd probably missed their expiration date, and it made his head all spinny. Well, more spinny than usual, and he didn't really like it. Especially no with the prince looking at him all funny. It was as if he wanted to eat him up like a fruit snack.

"Wuh-what're y'doin'?" Pinky asked, making a face as his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. And dusty.

"Getting to the main event." The human stood up, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. Perhaps they were too tight around his wrists. And maybe his pants too, because he undid the belt next. "Lick it."

"Your belt?" Pinky blinked slowly at him. That was a rather strange request, though he supposed he'd licked worse. Like that anthill behind the lab and the pudding pop that had been stuck to the inside of the freezer.

The man appeared quite annoyed with him. "No." And then his zipper was down.

"Egad! Thas unsanitariary... ary," Pinky accused, though it lacked any bite. "Please pull up your pants please." He only took a step closer and suddenly Pinky realized this was probably not a good place to be. His skin was itchy without being itchy. "I... umm... I hafta go now... my cable repair man needs me." The mouse got up to run, but was really quite dizzy upon standing. Like he spun around and around without having actually spun. "_Zort!_"

He was snatched up on the spot, held tightly in the prince's grasp (though he wasn't being very prince-like at all) and it only made everything even more spinny. He was so high up; were people always this high up off the ground? A big pair of lips were getting closer and Pinky knew he really didn't want that to happen. Squirming in his grip did no good, it only mussed up his dress and the grip wasn't giving. When contact was made, something in him snapped. He bit down on the hand that held him, hard and he was dropped with a startled yelp. Fur bristled and his whole body buzzing with nerves, he stumbled out of the room and hid behind a statue in the hallway. A couple of women sitting nearby saw him rush out, his dress slipping off one shoulder and his wig knocked askew, but they said nothing. The prince stalked out a few moments later, looked one way and then another before huffing and puffing all the way back to the ballroom.

Pinky's ears perked as he heard the women giggling and glanced in their direction. They were looking at him, covering their mouths while this knowing look gleamed in all their eyes. He didn't know what it meant, but it made him feel quite bad inside. His already warm cheeks got warmer and as the adrenaline from his escape wore off, he only felt like crying. The women laughed harder at his response, embarrassing him further until he ran for the exit. For any way out of this place.

He didn't feel like a lady now; he felt messy and looked it too, he was certain. On his way out, he stumbled and fell right on his face. Chest heaving with sobs and a tight corset, he picked himself up and kept going. Tears smeared his eye shadow and liner while unwanted attention had smudged the pretty red shade of his lips. Messy. Dirty. Unsanitary.

Once outside, he finally just sat down next to some bushes and cried. His shoe had fallen off while he'd been running, probably when he'd slipped, but he just didn't even care anymore. His costume was already ruined.

Light footsteps caught his attention and he looked up, vision blurred and swimming slightly, but he could tell it was Brain. Brain who wasn't holding the special, shiny ruby at all... but his missing shoe. The megalomaniac had noticed his companion's absence upon returning from his quest retrieve the prized gem, at first assuming the wayward mouse had wandered off. But when he passed by a group of party goers discussing the prince taking his latest victim off towards the lounge, Brain had been seized with panic and darted off in search of him. He arrived just in time to see Pinky rush out, with the prince just behind him, and felt combating prickles of relief and jealousy fill him. Then his friend had rushed off under the cruel taunts of the nearby gossips, and Brain had no choice but to follow, sans ruby. It only weighed him down and it was not what was important. Besides... he didn't want to hold something that lecherous creature had touched.

Pinky sniffled and hiccuped, swaying a little where he sat. Beside himself with misery. Brain sighed and sat beside him, placing his shoe back on before giving him a comforting pat. Somehow, without the smaller mouse knowing what he was doing, it became a hug and he cradled his companion close.

"They're jealous," he murmured, rubbing his back. "Those women wish they could be as lovely as you. And that prince is a fool. A complete buffoon. You have no reason to be upset, Pinky. You're lovely."

Brain helped him up once his crying and clinging were through and held his hand the entire way home even though that meant he couldn't take the ruby with him. Pinky snuggled against him and received another pat just because. His Brain was much better than any ol' prince. Their true love's kiss was certainly proof enough of that.

75. Rage (1257)

Pinky shook himself off after being dropped in the cage. It wasn't his cage; he'd just been taken from there where he'd been trying to run on his wheel quietly while his chubby hubby still slept all soundly. A couple of the scientists came in early it seemed and, upon seeing him awake and active, plucked him right up and placed him in a new cage. This was not a maze, he deduced after sniffing about. He also came to the conclusion that it wasn't a cage anyone lived in either, it was clean and shiny. But it was all wrong. There was no wheel or bed or water bottle, nothing except for the newspaper lining the bottom and some cedar chips piles in the corner.

His ears perked as the top of the cage opened and another mouse was dropped in. "Brain!" he greeted with a smile, automatically assuming his cagemate would be moved in along with him. But it wasn't him. Not unless he suddenly became a girl with a really small head. Or perhaps it was a normal head, just teeny-weeny for Brain's big brain.

Blue eyes blinked slowly, comprehending this change in routine. "Hi," he greeted, cocking his head to the side as the strange mouse continued to sniff and scuttle about the cage. "_Narf! _ I'm Pinky, what's your name?"

She didn't answer, only kept sniffing until she made it over to him. Her nose tickled and Pinky rolled onto his back with laughter. It made it easier for her to crawl all over him, her claws sometimes catching in his fur and her tail whacked him it the face. He continued giggling, trying to understand this strange new game with this strange friend. When she was done exploring him, she settled her weight on him and stared, her body rumbling with purring sounds.

"Aw, I like you too, Miss No Name Mouse. Oh! Troz! I'll call you Marcella! Yes, that's a lovely name. Hello, Marcella!" Pinky smiled brightly at her, she was a friendly cuddle mouse.

Shadows overcame them both and Pinky looked up. Three scientists were standing over the cage, peering down at them with pens and clipboards at the ready. They murmured about it being odd that was he was not displaying any reciprocation, wondered if it was an effect of the gene splicing but wouldn't that be a shame since the whole point of this experiment was to see if there would be any effects on the cell structures of mice born from and spliced and non-spliced mouse. The blue-eyed mouse really didn't have much of an idea of what they were saying. The words were too biggly-wiggly and Marcella had started to smell funny and move on top of him.

"What's wrong, Marcella?" he asked her, then his eyes grew wide and he scrambled out from underneath her. He knew that scent, it was different where he knew it from, different in a bad way and she'd been moving on him inappropriately. He was a married mouse, after all. A married mouse in a mahogany relationship. "Don't do that, Marcella, it's rude."

The mouse scurried after him and squeaked, making his ears fall and forcing him to run away again. But every time he left one corner of the cage for another, she followed him. He didn't like this one bit and squeaked at her to stop, but she didn't listen. Oh, Marcella wasn't a sweet, cuddly mouse friend now, no she wasn't!

"Go away!" he whined, having climbed up the side of the cage and onto the ceiling, hanging onto the bars with his fingers, toes, and tail.

A pencil prodded his belly, one of the scientists trying to get him to go down, but he refused to budge. The poking was quite rude, but he absolutely did not want to be on the ground with Marcella. He wanted to be in his cage with his husband and only doing love things with him, like marrieds were supposed to. Finally the scientists walked away and Pinky breathed a sigh of relief. He could get away now. Oh, if only he knew how to open cages.

"Brain! Braaaaaain!" he called for his hubby, sparing a glance down at the still squeaking and still in heat Marcella. "Be quiet, Marcella, I'm trying to get Brain." She was so weird.

Pinky clamped his mouth shut as the scientists came back and opened the door. Oh, they were letting him out! Hoorah! His tail began to wag and he smiled up at them with a happy 'narf' while he was cupped in one's palms. Then he saw the glittering, pointy thingy. He didn't think to move until it already went jabby-jab in him, making him whimper and rub at the injection site. Right on his thigh, that wasn't very nice. Oh, and it made him all hot and dizzy. He didn't like this at all.

They stuck him back in the cage and he tried to protest, tried to climb back up the cage wall, but it didn't work as well this time, Marcella easily pulled him down by grabbing his tail with her teeth and tugging on him. Pinky released a startled squeak, horrified with himself when he recognized some need in it. And oh, was the need increasing... suddenly he wanted nothing more than to have Brain moving all over him, squeaking and rubbing and making their scents mingle. He crawled away to the corner of the cage closest to theirs and squeaked again; for his husband, not for Marcella who seemed to think it was for her and made a beeline towards him.

Then it went dark; dark like when he and Brain had it for love things late at night after the plan thingies and he wanted it so badly. He was so hot and tingly and his thingy had come out and Brain hadn't even touched him yet- the soft fur that settled on him was tempting, but he didn't want it. It wasn't right, so he was both relieved and frustrated when it was shoved away and the fur at the back of his neck was gripped hard. Oh, that was more like it, that was like his chubby hubby love.

While the scientists fluttered about the dark lab in a frenzy, wondering what had caused the blackout and bumping into walls in search of the light switch, The Brain dragged his husband back to their cage. His blood boiling, how dare they take what's not rightfully theirs and give it to another, and scowl set in his face, he had to pin Pinky down in order to properly groom him and get that horrid scent off of him. He would not engage in any matter of love things until it was completely gone, and it seemed he had no choice in the matter with Pinky's hormones artificially stimulated as they were. Plus, his squeaks had him awakening with some rather primal urges of his own.

Later, when the scientists had calmed down (not only had there bee a blackout, but their mouse had gotten out and back to his cage? How?), they found a small note scrawled on a post-it. _**Never**__ take him again._ Clearly the lab was haunted and the scientists ran out screaming while Brain smirked from within their cage, stroking the messy tuft of fur atop his lover's head as the idiot snuggled against him with a happy sigh.

"Thank you for saving me from Marcella, Brain. Poit."

"You're welcome." _Imbecile_.

* * *

Power got carried away from me.

Actually... most of these got carried away from me xD But who cares!

And most are Pinky-centric, save for Pity which is about Cici's youngest daughter Rosie.  
And if you consider that Rosie was named for Pinky, then I suppose you could consider it Pinky-centric as well xDDDDDD Egad.

Btw, I love Marcella. She's hysterical. Or at least Pinky's reactions to her are. "Be quiet, Marcella!" loooooool. Ah, I amuse myself.

Next up: Thankful, Hyper, Goosebumps, Worthless, Remorse


	16. 76, 77, 78, 79, 80

76. Thankful (347)

They'd fallen. Oh, mighty Poseidon, no. No, not after he took such care to make sure nothing like this would happen. No, no, no. This wasn't even a _plan_. It was a day off because Pinky wanted so badly to take their baby snow mouse out for the day.

This was why they never did. It was still too dangerous in the world for a mouse. Far too dangerous for a baby. You take your eyes off a two-month-old for one second... then the next thing you know she's trying to be like Super Mouse and somehow climbed on the ledge of an open department store window (who leaves the windows open on the second floor of FAO Shorts where human children can just as easily climb out and get killed?!).

"I'll get her!" Pinky volunteered, dashing over to the window before Brain's horrified mind even had time to process anything other the multiple ways she could die by window. Falling, an eagle could snatch her up, a car could crush her, the window could suddenly slam down on her, spontaneous brain aneurysm... They'd only just found her, mere weeks ago. She finished learning the alphabet yesterday and how to write her own name. They'd named her. She was theirs.

"Pinky, wait!" he shouted, eyes wide as his co-parent overshot the child. Pinky's arms reached for her still and, with a smile and laugh, she latched on, sending both mice over the ledge. His heart stopped. It must have, it couldn't have continued beating even as he ran over to the window, desperately peering out. _Please, please, please._

"Hi, Brain!" Pinky waved from where he and Cici dangled above a busy street, his tail wrapped around a protruding piece of the building, his arms secure around the baby.

"Hi, Bah-ray-nuh!" Cici waved as well, absolutely delighted with being upside down and swinging.

_Thank you..._ Brain clutched at his chest and breathed a sigh of relief before he set about retrieving his acrobatic cagemate and his prodigy. Then he could scold them for as long as he wanted.

77. Hyper (404)

Brain hid his smile behind his hand as he watched the gaggle of mice ready themselves. He was rather impressed by the track Jack had set up for them, his oldest grandson having taken it upon himself to judge the race, along with Pumpkin's help. The boy had tried to convince Rosie to sit this one out, but the three month old wanted to race with her grandmummy too, and Pinky had promised to help her if she needed it. Apple and Neo were chattering a mile a minute, though one was bouncing far more than the other, while Nancy was eager to begin, tugging on Pinky's tail to make sure he was ready too.

"Alright, When I say "go", you go- not yet, grandma," Jack instructed, smiling fondly at the oldest mouse of the bunch. Brain could only continue to watch this attempt at an event while trying to keep from snickering. Bella soon joined them and wanted in on the race too. But then she had run off and get Cyan and Autumn because they would surely want to race! Somehow Gene got involved and Leuk was willing to race with the kids (and Pinky) as well.

His grumpy little boy attempted to get out of the race, but when Neo piped up that he'd be too slow, Cyan felt the need to show that his bizarre affinity for the exercise wheel was not for naught. With this many people racing, Pinky (his sweet, dear) knew to pick up Rosie and let her team up with him lest she not hear someone before they accidentally stepped on her. Nancy wanted to be on the team too, but Neo said the whole point of it to begin with was to prove that he was faster than her so she had to race.

How this hyperactive family managed to actually have this playroom race was beyond him, but eventually Jack said "go" and Pumpkin waved the flag and it began. No one won; it was impossible to tell, but Pinky decided Leuk won just because it was fun to have him play with them and because his fur was curly. That was an excellent reason to win a race.

Then the squabbling began and Brain shook his head, still hiding his smirk as he exchanged glances with Jack and Pumpkin who were content to watch it all unfold from their perch, same as him.

78. Goosebumps (283)

A wearying, patient sigh accompanied the fingers threading through the fur atop his head. "I told you not to watch that movie."

Pinky said nothing, content to keep his head in Brain's lap, eyes squeezed shut against the nightly shadows creeping along the wall. The occasional shiver brought his lover's warmth closer and his muscles tensed to the point of cramping until Brain stroked the goosebumps away.

His kiss brushed behind his ear, fondly exasperated. "I won't let the monsters get you."

Blue eyes finally opened and peered up at him. "Or the ghosties?"

"Or the ghosts," he acquiesced easily.

"What about zombie robot pirate demons from Japan?" Pinky curled his fingers in the fur of Brain's thigh, gaze more curious than frightened now.

The megalomaniac arched a brow, nearly scowling at him as he prodded his side, stern pokes becoming light tickles once they began to elicit a string of muffled giggles from his companion. "Pinky, you can't honestly believe that I, The Brain, would not be able to easily best zombie robot pirate demons from any country, let alone Japan? That the future ruler of the world cannot protect it from a so-called invasion of said creatures? Come, Pinky, you're dabbling in the absurd now."

"_Narf!_" he laughed, rolling onto his back to gaze up at him happily. Adoringly. Completely trusting.

Another sigh slipped past Brain's lips, this time unbidden, and he tipped his head down to rub their noses together. Resting a hand on the soft, warm belly, he assured him again. "I won't let anything get you, dear."

"Thank you, Brain," he purred, the creeping-crawling under his skin replaced by the familiar tingles his husband never failed to inspire.

79. Worthless (215)

He'd pushed the wrong button. Again.

At first it was fun to push all sorts of different kinds of buttons, like a huge game! But the more he realized his friend wanted the world, he discovered that he didn't care if he didn't get to push all the colorful buttons. He wanted to start pushing the right buttons and make his bestest best friend smile.

"Pinky!" Brain would holler night after night, for a moment enraged beyond belief, only to calm down minutes later and brush it off as a normal occurrence. "Come, Pinky. We must prepare for tomorrow night." Where he'd push another wrong button or lever or switch or cereal box and ruin Brain's plans all over again.

He didn't want to be why Brain failed all the time. He didn't want his friend to realize it and send him away or get a new best friend. He didn't want to lose him.

But it was hard to stay focused and it was hard to remember until he'd already botched the plans and was lying awake in the bed they shared while his favoritest person slept, repeating the promise in his head that he'd do better next time. He'd do better next time. He'd do better next time. Maybe then he wouldn't forget.

80. Remorse (1658)

"Can we have a wedding, Brain?"

The megalomaniacal mouse's ears perked as his thoughts jolted to an abrupt stop and the progress he'd been making on his plan for the night was effectively stalled. "What?" he addressed his cagemate, irritation soaking his tone.

"Poit. A wedding. Can we have one?" Pinky asked again, holding his toes and rocking on his rump a little ways away.

The Brain arched an eyebrow. Out of the corner of his eye the light of the television flickered rapidly, a commercial no doubt, and it dawned on him the source of his companion's random question. He rolled his eyes. Pinky knew better than to disrupt him with inane questions. "To have a wedding, one would need someone to be wed to."

"Yes," the blue-eyed mouse responded easily, as if he'd never doubted that.

Pursing his lips, Brain's scowl deepened. "And yet you want me to get married."

"Yes!" he chirped, releasing his feet to clap his hands together delightedly.

"Pinky, stop this foolishness. I have no one to marry, and even if I did, my concerns are not with dedicating myself to a spouse, but to the world. Surely, whoever endeared themselves to me enough would understand that Mother Earth is first in my heart. I would allow for nothing else," Brain replied, turning back to his blueprints and ignoring the strange tension he felt around his heart. Nonsense. He had no longing for a spouse, not when he had his goals and his partner.

"Oh, well, of course I know that, Brain," Pinky told him matter-of-factly and the smaller mouse could only envision the way his companion would cross his arms and lift his chin just so. "_Zort. _ But you're quite wrong about the first part."

He erased a line he hadn't meant to erase, his grip on his pencil tightening. "Oh, am I? Tell me then, Pinky, who would you deem an acceptable wife for me? That cue-tip over there? Or perhaps the can of expired pineapples in the back of the fridge?"

As per usual, the sarcasm went over his simple-minded friend's head as he doubled over in laughter. "Oh, Brain! Good one!" he giggled, "No, I was talking about me!"

"You want to marry the cue-tip?" He turned to him again, expression considering and not at all surprised. Pinky had fallen in love with stranger things.

The rapid shaking of his head was almost enough to make Brain regret continuing this conversation, if only for the ridiculous response that awaited him and the complete waste of time this was. He had a world to conquer and Pinky's rambling train of thought was not conducive to scheming. But the gesture also had him slightly intrigued, very different from his usual curiosity concerning the pursuit of knowledge. But intrigue was intrigue and he couldn't deny himself that. Especially if it was Pinky.

Even if it was Pinky. He'd meant to think even. The strange constriction of his chest was muddling his thoughts. "Who is it that you want getting married then, Pinky? Me or you?"

"Me and you, Brain!" Pinky was beaming at him. "We should get married together!"

There was an odd buzzing in his ear. He wondered if it had muffled what his companion really said, instead of what it seemed that he'd heard. "Get married together? To...?"

"To us," Pinky explained as if he were speaking to a child. "You and I will be each other's marrieds! Or... umm... husbands. Troz. We'll be husbands." He clasped his hands together again and placed them in his lap. Satisfaction at his answer painted all across his face.

Brain blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time. "Pinky, we can't get married."

He made to turn around again, but the sudden wilt of his cagemate's ears prevented him from completely doing so. He didn't want to deal with an emotionally distraught Pinky, not when he was already so far behind schedule. He should've just ignored him the moment he opened his mouth. "Why not?" Oh, yes, he certainly regretted it now. He sounded so small and confused. Not that he didn't usually sound confused, but this particular combination never ceased to tug at his heartstrings.

"Because it takes a certain type of relationship that neither you nor I have at the moment. Particularly with each other." Brain gestured between the two of them.

Pinky looked over his shoulder at the television for a second, then back to Brain. "What kind of ship?"

"_Relation_ship," Brain repeated in a near deadpan, save for the emphasis. "Marriage, more often than not, requires a romantic relationship, Pinky." He watched his friend's ears pop back up. "Yes, I was certain that your penchant for all things 'lovey-dovey' would surely enlighten you to that necessary aspect of marriage."

"Well, of course I know you have to be in love, Brain! I'm not stupid!" Oh yes he was. So very, very stupid.

Brain rolled his eyes once more, tapping his pencil in his hand. "Then you're aware of why we can't have a wedding."

"Umm... poit. No." Pinky blinked at him blankly.

The smaller mouse ground his teeth together. Honestly, conversation between the cue-tip would've been more stimulating. At least the cotton end would absorb something. "_We'd_ have to be in love, Pinky. A feeling neither one of us feels for the other."

"I do."

Brain didn't realize his grip went slack until the pencil rolled away on the counter. The buzzing in his ears had grown louder. As had the grip some unseeable fist had on his heart; though upon careful examination, he would've found that it had tightened at his words, not Pinky's.

Pink eyes blinked again and he shifted his gaze from his empty hands to his cagemate. He no longer appeared denser than a cue-tip and Brain knew it was his eyes. Those blue, blue eyes were more than just confused. They were hurt. Hurt and, at the same time, forgiving. As if Brain simply had no idea what it was that he'd said. The worst of all was the love he saw there. Pinky wasn't lying.

Before, The Brain would never have believed one could feel his or her heart stop and not perish immediately. A heart could skip a beat, yes, and the shortness of breath one felt in times of panic could make him or her feel as if it had jumped into their throat. But stop? No one could know how it felt to have their heart stop without being rushed to the hospital. But Brain's heart had most certainly stopped.

He had no words. He was never at a loss for words; they always came so easily to him. How could he not have anything to say to Pinky? It was Pinky. It was just Pinky! He was everywhere, all the time, nothing special, nothing different, nothing that deserved words that he could only grasp at. It was Pinky!

"Stop this foolishness, Pinky, can't you see I have bigger tasks on my hands right now? The world will not wait and your babble is only causing my mind undue stress and distraction and I don't need it right now! Go amuse yourself until I'm ready to come get you and don't ask me any more questions unless it's about the plan!" Brain snapped, rising to his feet immediately and storming over to his pencil, snatching it up as if it too had done something to offend him. Perhaps by rolling away. Yes, he couldn't bop Pinky with it at this distance. Further scramble what little brains he had. He glanced back at him, double-checking the range to make sure, only to become infuriated when he was still sitting there. Staring at him. "Pinky!"

"I-" Blue eyes filled so rapidly, Brain was certain they'd overflow and leave him with a sobbing wreck that he'd have no choice but to comfort. He never had a choice. He _had _to quell the tears that fell from those eyes. Especially when he was the cause.

Even... he meant even again.

But the tears never fell. "Right, Brain," he whispered to keep his voice from breaking, though even at its softest Brain could hear the hitch. "Sorry, I- sorry." And he was; he truly was.

The quiet footsteps slowly faded, but he couldn't tell if it was because Pinky walked further away or if the white noise screaming in his head was steadily increasing. He was alone now, yes. He could concentrate on his plan. The plan. Always the plan.

His chest hurt so much though. His heart had started again, but it ached more and more with each beat. Brain rubbed his fist against it. He... even if he had feelings for Pinky... of a romantic nature, because he already cared for him as a friend obviously... even if he had those feelings, it didn't mean anything. Pinky loved so many things. It was only natural he be counted. Of course the fool wouldn't know between love and in love. He wouldn't. Couldn't.

If he did, he'd only feel worse.

The white noise allowed him reprieve so he could freely hear the sound of his friend's sobbing. It wasn't loud and obnoxious like he tended to be. He was _trying_ to stay quiet. Pinky never tried to stay quiet. He simply wasn't.

Brain stared at his half-finished blueprints. If... if it were possible that Pinky loved him (and that he loved the imbecile in return) then a proper discussion wouldn't hurt. But after the plan. Pinky didn't have to wait for him to have the world, but he could at least wait until after the plan, right? Was that so unreasonable?

Ears that had wilted in thought sprang up as the window creaked open. His pencil clattered to the counter again. The precise notes and careful calculations were left behind as the terrifying thought echoed in his mind. What if there was no after the plan?

"Pinky," Brain called out, "Wait."

* * *

Next up: Degraded, Revenge, Fulfilled, Shame, Graceful


	17. 81, 82, 83, 84, 85

81. Degraded (335)

Brain didn't know why his husband was suddenly having nightmares every night. At least, the smaller mouse presumed they were nightmares. He couldn't imagine any other reason for why Pinky would sob in his sleep. His lover would go to bed happy, all smiles and all loving, but then the sounds came and Brain found them to be worse than any he'd ever heard before. It sounded like Pinky was breaking.

He never told him what they were about. Brain would stroke his sides and hold him and ask what was wrong, but he never told him. Pinky wasn't really Pinky when he woke up from these nightmares. He was unresponsive to every touch, kiss, word crooned against his ear. The first time it terrified Brain, then fifteenth time still terrified him but it was a quiet terror.

Pinky would snap out of it eventually, snuggling closer and burrowing into his scent and shivering. Brain didn't know what had happened. Two weeks before the nightmares started, Brain's memory was a little fuzzy. For some reason he couldn't recall a single take over the world plan or conversation he'd had with Pinky. For his eidetic memory, it was alarming to say the least. Something had happened then, he was certain of it, but his brilliant mind refused to let him see. It was only fog and darkness.

Though some nights he dreamed of a strange scent and foreign taste and a touch that was not his husband's glossing over him. He'd wake with dread hardened in his gut, disgust worming it's way up his throat. Nightmares. They were nightmares. For what felt like hours, he'd stare at his hands before rolling over to shift it to Pinky. Pinky was the only one he would ever touch. The only one he'd ever love. He was certain of it, couldn't be as certain of anything else.

So he couldn't understand why guilt ate away at his heart and whispered that he was the reason why Pinky broke every night.

82. Revenge (576)

His body, his poor body beaten and battered, shivered on their bed but refused a blanket. It stings, Brain. Don't touch it, Brain. Make it stop hurting, Brain. His knuckles, white and bloodless as he clenched his fists tightly, were pressed to his eyes as he tried in vain to rub the images from his mind. His husband tied to a table in a dark room, his husband whipped on a table, his husband whipped by what appeared to be _him_.

The moment Brain received Snowball's video transmission, he should've expected something as horrific as being forced to watch that. But he'd rolled his eyes when it was only the dark room and his carefree, simple-minded lover was singing, so it couldn't have been that bad. Snowball was merely desperate to get his attention, in his mind, sinking to such depths as to lock Pinky away in some old warehouse. It was actually a relief at first, he'd been wondering (worrying) where the wayward mouse had gotten to. At least this way he knew where he was and that he was relatively unharmed, if not suffering from a tummy ache from too many sugary animal crackers.

It was easy enough to locate the warehouse, but another matter entirely when locating the room. Snowball had essentially designed a labyrinth, peppering the bleak decor with the occasional television monitor. Monitors that then proceeded to show him himself as he spoke to his husband. As he hurt him.

It put a dark twist on his frequent "I'm going to have to hurt you" threats, one that made bile rise in his throat as Pinky's inevitable screams echoed in his ears. Where was this room? _Where was it?_

When he found them, it was all too easy to beat that hamster into unconsciousness. A hologram, he'd projected a hologram to confuse Pinky and make him feel like his own lover was scourging him. A growl escaped him as he towered over Snowball. How dare he hurt what was his? _How dare he?_

But then he heard sounds that he'd never thought his husband could make, his happy husband, carefree idiot, borderline masochist with the highest pain tolerance he'd ever encountered... And Brain couldn't touch Snowball. Not when Pinky needed him. There would be time later, perhaps, but for the time being all that mattered was getting Pinky away from here and home where he soothe those angry welts and the bruises that were surely on his too-loving heart.

Even after they returned to the lab though, Pinky flinched and whimpered and stared hard at him, as if waiting for him to snap. It hurt; it hurt so much but he could understand why. So he was careful and soft and everything his husband needed him to be until he fell into a fitful sleep. He could've gone then. But the last thing Pinky ever needed to see now was him acting violently, that violently, towards anyone. Snowball wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth the chance of Pinky seeing his face twisted in rage and frightening him even more. Even if it was on his behalf, Pinky wouldn't understand and would only see meanness and pain and he couldn't do that to him.

So he sat by his side and tried to ease the shivers and the stings and the scary feelings in the hopes that come morning, when those blue eyes fluttered open and fell upon him, he wouldn't flinch.

83. Fulfilled (266)

It was like feeling empty all the time. There wasn't enough of him mentally to understand that, all he knew was that he wanted and the want was constant. No, it was a need. He couldn't breathe if he wasn't touching him. Couldn't survive if he wasn't tasting him. Couldn't exist if he wasn't filling or being filled by him.

And that feeling never went away. From the moment his mind became charged from the magnet machine, the feeling festered and grew, devouring his mind. It took away his words, any sense he might've had. His own name didn't matter. Only Brain. Only pleasing Brain and being pleased back. And, oh... were they being pleased. Again and again and again... but it didn't make the empty go away. It only made him hunger more, burn and ache and need. More, more, more.

So he didn't know what he did wrong, only cared about fixing it because his hormones were going mad, driving him crazy with need and Brain wouldn't let him touch anymore. He'd let him touch before. Answered all his squeaks. Now he was silent and his scent was so far away. Pinky squeaked and squeaked, singing for his heat.

He was so empty. Fill me, give me, need me. Then he was shocked, the electrical impulses tingling and sparking the tips of his fur. His desperate squeaks became confused crying. He was tied up and hard and all alone.

Then Brain was kissing him, soft and warm and loving. Loving. He was loved. As he kissed back, his arousal easing, Pinky felt very full.

84. Shame (324)

"You'we so dumb, mummy!"

"I know! Troz!" Pinky smiled and laughed, holding his sides as he nearly doubled over in delight.

The pink-eyed, floppy-eared boy in front of him glared, balling his hands into tight fists as he grit his teeth and growled. "No! No, I didn't say that so you could waugh! You'we not supposed to be happy about being dumb! You'we supposed to get sad ow mad ow feew bad! You can't even do that wight!" he spat.

Were he not so frustrated, Cyan would've marvelled how the smile that was always so quick to form could also fade in an instant. He continued to hold himself, but it tightened and was a means of comfort instead. "Why would you want me to feel bad, Cyan?"

His mouth opened before any thought could form, then remained agape as he processed the question. "I..." Why did he? His anger fled and his brow knit in confusion rather than annoyance. Why did he feel the need to make his mummy sad? He hated it when he cried, just as much as he hated when his twin did too. Making Pinky upset didn't accomplish anything, but the desire had been there, if only fleeting. "I don't know."

It didn't make sense and it continued to not make sense the more he pondered it. He only felt bad, it was wrong to purposefully make a person cry, especially if that person was your mummy. Cyan went to Brain, firmly believing that if anyone could tell him why he'd felt that way it would be his daddy.

Allowing him under a grumpy guise, he had disrupted his work after all and Cyan typically knew better, Brain waited for his son to pose his question. A wave of shame hit him when the boy looked at him hesitantly and asked: "Why do I sometimes want to make mummy feew bad?"

He also did not know the exact reason.

85. Graceful (224)

When she was small, still so terribly small, Pinky would set her on a small stack of books so she'd be tall enough to dance with him. Cici would giggle with delight as he dipped her, guided her along so she could also do the footwork and not just be swept away. Though he did sweep her off the books multiple times, holding her little hands in his as he spun her around, always coming in for a perfect landing and let her twirl on her own just to show that she could.

They danced well together, even when it wasn't the ballet Cici's lessons were centered on. They danced to everything and anything, both managed to somehow look beautiful when making up techno moves to robot songs if only because it made them laugh so at their own ridiculousness.

That same small girl came to him, of all people, for a father-daughter dance ("because I'm married now, daddy") and while he treasured such a dance with his baby, he was more than willing to share with his husband to watch him sweep her off her feet and dance her around the room as if she was nothing more than four-months-old again.

And when they danced, he always saw the little girl who needed a stack of books to keep up with her mother.

* * *

Degraded and Revenge are companion pieces to Defeated and Power respectively. Poor Brain, angsting over angst.

Next up: Shining, Content, Feelings, Pleased, Relief


	18. 86, 87, 88, 89, 90

86. Shining (308)

"Dance with me!"

Bay couldn't refuse those shining blue eyes. It was as if they were made specifically to be his ultimate weakness. Pinny didn't even really have to do anything; a single bat of his lashes had the other boy grumbling his acquiescence sooner or later.

His boyfriend grabbed his hands and tugged him to his feet, their height difference only slight still. Part of Bay was torn between determination to match Pinny's height, but the other part insisted that it was only right. "Pinny, I'm busy," he mumbled, but allowed himself to be dragged along.

"But Bay!" He squeezed his hands and lifted them up to his lips, brushing kisses to each knuckle. For being so young, he was oddly romantic and it never failed to get Bay blushing from his ears to his tail. "We never get to dance like dancing!" At this point, he couldn't really say he didn't know what Pinny was talking about.

"We've danced plenty," he told him regardless, then those lovely eyes were closer and brighter and his heart fluttered.

"Please, Brain?"

He swallowed thickly, then looked around fervently. "Not so loud, Pinky," he hissed, his blush completely uncontrollable now. "Fine, we'll dance."

"Naaaaaarf!" Pinny threw his arms around him and spun them in a circle, stopping only when Bay bopped him and told him to get on with it, pinhead.

Then they'd dance together, to old music mostly, both were particularly fond of Spinatra, and only for one song each time, lest Bay become embarrassed and squirmy. But he'd gaze into that sparkling, blue stare that found so much joy in the simplest of things, Bay supposed it wouldn't be the end of the world if anyone walked in on them. And dancing tended to lead to kisses, which he couldn't find it in him to complain about either.

87. Content (301)

"Pinky, stop that." What could almost pass for a chuckle escaped The Brain as he nudged his wayward husband with his foot. "Ridiculous creature."

The taller mouse only laughed, far more freely, and rolled onto his stomach to keep the blanket pinned over them. The edge of the fabric pressed into their matchbox bed as his fingers dug in more when Brain nudged him again. "No, Brain, it's our fortress! _Narf!_"

"It's our bed." His lips quirked up as he turned his head to meet the illuminated, shimmering blue eyes he so adored. Playful and loving and happy and so, so beautiful. "Pull back the blanket, Pinky," he requested again, though his hands remained folded lazily over his stomach and he made no move to get his husband to abide by him. The fur of his belly was sticky and reminiscent of love things, but he couldn't quite complain just yet, far too pleased by the way Pinky would squeal and squirm when he dug his foot into his side.

"But Brain, it's our secret love things fortress," he chirped, leaning over to rub his nose against his husband's. "Where we do secret love things!" When Brain looked about to protest some more, Pinky sprawled on top of him. "No, don't pull up the blanket! I won't let you, Brain! You can't handle the truth!"

They rolled and squirmed, poking, prodding, and snuggling even when the blanket was no longer the point. Sated from their love things, the point became finding more excuses to touch and tease the other. "I win." Brain smirked from where he pinned Pinky and removed the blanket from over their heads.

Pinky craned his neck and kissed him. "I love you!" And when Brain made to deepen it, his whimsical husband pulled the covers back over.

88. Feelings (1814)

It was the same question every morning now... "Is Brain better today?"

Cici sighed, not out of exasperation but because everything was so heavy now, and shook her as she looked to her mommy-daddy. Her very small, very sick mommy-daddy. "I'm sorry, mommy. It's another bad day."

"Oh..." It was the only thing that gave him enough excitement to lean forward in bed anymore, so he slumped back against propped up pillows and coughed. "Well, that's alright. Maybe tomorrow. Troz."

"Maybe." Cici went to his side, taking a seat in the little chair on the nightstand next to his not-bed.

His bed was the one he shared with Brain, not this sick bed in this sick room. It was nice of Dr. Teddy to visit him so often while he was here, but he was ready to go back to his room now. He hadn't seen Brain in a whole week. He leaned his head into his daughter's palm when she felt for a fever.

"How are you feeling today, mommy?" she asked, turning the clinical act into loving strokes to the top of his head.

He coughed. "Oh, much better. Zort. I don't feel nearly as achy breaky all over as I did yesterday and I kept all of my breakfast down." Upon the curious glance he received, he wilted some. "Most of it." She continued to gaze at him. "Alright, some. But I'm feeling much better now," he assured her.

Cici nodded, satisfied with that answer. It was as truthful as Pinky could get, her gaze going to the graying fur on his paper thin arms. It looked as if you held them wrong they'd snap. Theodore wanted to set up an IV drip, wanted to inject the nutrients into him because he wasn't eating enough. Or he was eating, but nothing stayed. But the thought of a needle in his fragile, little arm was too terrifying and she'd rather he live out his remaining days as comfortable as possible.

But they'd consider it.

"I'm glad, mommy. That's good." She smiled at him and he reached up to take her hand in his.

"Cici? I won't... will I ever get all the way better?" He already knew the answer. There were these feelings down inside him that told him this was a sickness no one got better from. One that didn't start with a germ and one that didn't end ever.

"Oh, mommy..." She gave his hand a squeeze, her tired, poor, sick parent. "I hope so. I really hope you will."

"Good. 'Cause I hope too." His smile was still as bright, even if his eyes were slightly dimmed and bleary. "Hope is very important, baby snow mouse."

"I know." She leaned in and touched her lips to his cheek. "I love you, mommy."

"I love you too, baby."

Pinky steadily got used to that routine. His oldest daughter always coming in first to see him, after Dr. Teddy, with news of how his husband was. The rest of his family would pop in throughout the day after, but Cici was always first. Then Bella and her Terry and sister dear and Leuk and Feta and the grandbabies and it just kept going. His Cyan was always one of the last to visit, but he didn't mind. He was working hard.

The only thing he didn't like about the routine was that there was no room for Brain. There was always supposed to be room for Brain. But everyone thought it was best not to distress the fragile-minded, equally sick mouse. He didn't ask for Pinky, didn't notice his absence, and everyone feared some kind of inevitable upset should they be together in less than ideal conditions. Cici did make sure to promise him, though, that if Brain woke up one morning and remembered that their grandbabies had babies of their own, then he could see him.

A month into his convalescence, he coughed when his baby snow mouse walked in and no longer had the strength to sit up to ask his question. "Is Brain better today?"

Cici looked at him, then behind her as her little brother entered. Pinky blinked. Cyan never came first thing with Cici. His oldest girl cleared her throat and got his attention again. "Yeah, mommy. He's feeling a little better today."

Pinky's floppy ears perked and his eyes lit up in a way they hadn't since he first got sick. "Can I see him? Please? Please, can I?"

He could tell his daughter was going to say yes, but Cyan stopped her. "I don't know if it's still a good idea, mummy. He can't leave his bed and neither can you. I just think it'll do more harm than good at this point."

"We promised, Cy," Cici reminded him.

"I know what we promised, but that was before he got this bad." He gestured to Pinky, small and gray in his bed.

"Perhaps if you had your priorities straight..." she mumbled and didn't give him time to respond as she strode over to her mother's side. "Of course, you can see him, mommy."

He smiled up at her, reaching out to give her cheek a pat. Then his grumpy-grumbly son sighed and shuffled over as well, very carefully lifting his mummy out of bed. He was so light. Pinky coughed and Cyan looked away as he carried him out of the room, Cici nudging the IV drip behind him.

"We get to be in my for real bed with Brain? Narf." He snuggled against his son, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Yes. It's better than we keep him in familiar places and your new room will only confuse him," Cyan confirmed. "You'll get to be in you for real bed, mummy. Just don't do anything too energetic or widiculous. You're still sick."

"I know." But he couldn't even be sad about that, far too happy to be seeing his husband. His tail even wagged, however limp the motion was.

Theodore was waiting for them at the doors to the emperor's bedroom and took Pinky from Cyan gently. It would be best if he got him settled in first, then the children could come in a see how they were doing. Pinky waved to them as he was carried inside, the door closed behind them.

Cici and Cyan stared at it for a moment.

"I do have my priorities straight. We're losing him, Cici. I know you see it." The boy turned to face his sister head-on and she sighed. "This isn't the way dad should go."

"I'm not saying that the work you and Theodore are doing to cure him isn't worth it or useless. I want him back too," she defended, placing her hand over her heart. "But if mommy's not here when you find this cure, you can't give it to him."

"Don't say things like that," Cyan grumbled, looking away and crossing him arms.

"I don't want to believe it anymore than you, but it's becoming more and more of a reality, Cyan. If you'd put half your efforts into trying to cure him, maybe things would be different."

"How could I do that?" He glared at the floor. Stupid, shiny blue tiles. "It's a miracle we've gotten as close as we have with dad and that's only putting our all into it. Mummy's old. There's no cure for age."

"You could've tried something." Cici fiddled with her scarf, still in good condition despite the years she'd had it. "Your research and hard work will have been for nothing if mommy's gone."

Cyan shifted his glare to her. "No it won't."

"Cyan-"

"I won't let daddy die this way. If he's going to go it will be with dignity and his mind intact and... and... I won't accept anything else," he told her fiercely. "After all he's done for us, the least we can do is give him some time to be himself again."

"But, Cyan," she pleaded, clasping her hands together. "He can't be alone."

"He won't be. He has us," he growled.

"You know that won't be enough."

He threw his hands in the air and began to pace. "You're acting as if mummy's already dead. We could find the cure tomorrow, or today even! He and mummy could have that time together! Don't you see how happy that would make him? Both of them?"

"I don't think daddy can handle that," she told him honestly.

"What? Of course he can. When he has his wits about him, he's strong and rational and... and... he'll know it's the right thing to do." Cyan stopped his pacing, straightening his back and fixating his gaze on a spot on the wall. "He'll know."

"He'll be devastated."

"He'll be alive."

Cici hugged herself and sighed again, this one watery and tired. She didn't want to fight with her brother about this anymore. But... "Please, Cyan, at least promise me this," she spoke softly, trying to meet his gaze. "Please promise me that if mommy... has... gone, and he hasn't noticed... please don't cure him. Please."

Cyan's fists clenched at his sides and he turned away. "I can't promise that."

The empress bit down on her lower lip, considering what else she could say to him, when the bedroom door opened and Theodore stepped out. "You can see them now, if you wish."

Both children entered and climbed onto their parent's bed where the two old mice laid curled into one another. Brain stroked his husband's side and Pinky cuddled him close and let his tail sweep from side to side. The taller mouse was smiling so brightly, Cici couldn't help but thank whatever powers there were that he'd been given this moment, and did so again when she saw the tiny one pulling at Brain's lips. If only they could have more time together. If only they could have more time together with all of them.

"My dear... you've lost weight," Brain murmured, his brow scrunching slightly.

The two children and the doctor looked to each other, debating the best way to approach this when Pinky spoke up. "You know me, always watching out for my figure."

"Hm." Brain rubbed his nose against his husband's, their eyes closed as they simply enjoyed the feeling of one another. "Well, don't. Your figure is perfect, it always has been."

"'Kay, love. I'll try," Pinky promised.

"Good."

When Pinky coughed and Brain soothed him, Cyan couldn't watch anymore. It would do no one any good to watch. He hurried to where he and Theodore were working on the cure for Alzheimer's, determined to uncover it as soon as possible... so he could start working on something for his mummy as well. He was the son of a genius, _he_ was a genius. Surely he could find a way to slow down death. He had to.

89. Pleased (323)

"Brain, you're hogging all the blanket again." Pinky's sleepy voice was amused. Even with the chill of the winter night in the poorly insulated lab prodding him from his happy dreams of cake covered Brain and licking it all off him because he had only his thigh draped by a corner of the sheets. He didn't mind, his tail even thumped lazily against their matchbox bed. When he woke up because of not having any blanket, he'd always get to see his chubby hubby all bundled and twisted up in them, looking absolutely adorable.

The smaller mouse's nose scrunched a little, his brow creasing in attempt to stave off wakefulness. "Nn."

Eyes half-lidded from sleep smiled along with his lips and Pinky started to unwrap the layers around him. "Brain, love, you have all the blanket. Poit."

While his pretty pink gaze didn't reveal itself, Brain was awakened by the shifting and crooning of Pinky's voice. "'M cold," he muttered, trying to take back what Pinky was taking away. "My blanket..."

"Sharing is caring." Pinky finally had it spread over both of them, giggling quietly as Brain scowled and tried to curl up all small, making pouty noises as he did so. Kissing his mumbly-grumbly lips, the taller mouse enveloped him in his arms and turned them so that Brain was encased on all sides by him, lying beneath him. "I'll share my warmth with you," he whispered his promise, breath tickling his husband's ear.

Brain made a satisfied sound, fingers curling in the fur of Pinky's chest and nestled close. Their noses touched and Pinky rubbed his against his hubby's little, cold one. His stomach jumped a little when the smaller mouse pressed his chilled feet between Pinky's thighs, but he got used to it and gladly warmed them for him.

He could warm all of Brain, and it pleased Pinky quite a bit every time he was able to do so.

90. Relief (204)

"Please, please, _please_," Brain panted, pink eyes glazed over with pleasure, his hips rocking mindlessly. Teetering right on the edge, he whined as Pinky's hand teased him. Closer, closer, closer, stop. Slow, gentle. Faster, faster, faster, stop. Easy, loving. It was driving him mad. Incoherent babbles and shrill squeaks were all he was reduced to, desperate to fall. His hand was so warm, so tight, and the kisses he peppered all over his flushed face only heightened his senses, every nerve on fire from the need to come.

It was all he could think of, all he could want, writhing furiously as he was toyed with. Sobbing, begging, needing. His legs spread as wide as they could go, his whole body quivering as the flush from his cheeks spread down, down, down. He was so hot, Pinky was so good. He needed to come. He was unraveling on the inside, his mind completely lost, so close to bursting, so close, so close...

"Let me, Pinky! Ohhh... oh, please, Pinky! I can't-!"

Pinky let him.

Limp and coated with his own seed, Brain came down from the suspended high and sighed heavily, sated and warm as Pinky continued to kiss and cuddle and hold him.

* * *

I'm finally on Christmas break (I don't care if winter break is politically correct) so I can finally update xD

These have all been written since... I don't even know, they've been around, I just have had a busy life and it's finally not so busy anymore.

So lets seeeeee...  
All I can say for these is that Feelings is based off of one of StarShineDC's little scenes. I'm pretty sure it's in the first batch, though I could be wrong, and it's where Brain's Alzheimer's has been cured... but not all is well. It's very beautiful and I'm going to make you go through all of her scenes to find it because everything she writes is awesome, so go do that xD

Everything else is pretty self-explanatory, Shining is with Pinky and Brain's reincarnations and the others are just fun times, I think. Enjoy!

Next up: I, Zest, Tears, Building, Optimistic


	19. 91, 92, 93, 94, 95

91. I (214)

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where his "I"s became "we"s. Overnight it seemed that he went from "when I take over the world!" to "once we have the world, Pinky!"

Long before he'd realized he'd fallen in love with his cagemate, the change had occurred. It had been seamless, and he could no longer imagine not including the blue-eyed mouse in his declarations. Shortly after that, the idea of "their" castle came into existence, and the notion that he and his friend would not be together at the end of it all was ridiculous. Of course they'd be together. They were always together.

Being married only made the "we" more obvious. In the rare instances where he'd forget and only think in "I"s made his stomach twist painfully before he realized what he'd done. Exclude what had always been included.

He felt Pinky sit beside him, lean against him and tangle their tails together. Their shadows melded and Brain was struck by the thought that he hadn't been an "I" for a very long time. Before and after Snowball, always before Pinky. Turning his head, he looked into his husband's lovely eyes, already on him and shining big and bright, and wondered if he'd ever thought in "I" before "we".

92. Zest (318)

His machine was powered by citric acid, as it was more affordable than any other type of fuel, and he would now be able to successfully market this ingenious alternative energy to win the public over and take over the world by taking over big oil! Yes!

So he placed Pinky in charge of collecting copious amounts of lemon zest, as it was the simplest way to harness the energy, an went to work on developing a campaign for his new product. The Brain rubbed his palms together, smirking to himself. Whoever controlled the world's fuel supply controlled the world, after all. Everyone was far too dependent on their technology and powering it. There was simply no way this plan could fail.

It did fail though. He'd been too impatient to grow his lemon and orange tress naturally and devised a fertilizer to grow them at a rapid rate, but it altered the genes in the fruits and rendered them worthless, as well as seeped into the soil to ruin the next several crops he'd attempted in order to salvage the scheme. He sighed; perhaps he'd take on GMOs for a later plan. They really did ruin things.

"Look, Brain! We still have some lemons left!" Pinky chirped, rolling them over to his husband.

The megalomaniac eyed them, then gave one of them a pat. "I suppose, as the saying goes, when life gives you lemons-"

"You eat them!" Pinky already had one cut open and bit into it, his face immediately puckering as the sour taste coated his tongue and squirted his eyes.

It was a good thing he could count on Pinky to help him forget the ruin of his plans. Brain cupped his cheeks and wiped away the lemon juice, then kissed him to ease the severity of his puckered lips. "You could, my dear, but I believe lemonade would be a more palatable alternative."

93. Tears (567)

A lot of the grown-ups were saying something was wrong with him. He was pretty sure they were just con-fused. He felt fine. He kept telling all of them that, because the more you believed something, the more true it was! At least that's what he believed and it seemed like a rather nice thing to believe in. Like feck.

Maybe he'd lost his feck and that's why he wasn't growing the way he was pretty sure he was supposed to. Feck was very important after all. He didn't know what it was, but it was important. So he would just have to find it if it was lost. It was definitely somewhere in the castle; he'd never really gone anywhere else. Sometimes he and Bay went on adventures, but he was pretty sure he always had his feck when he was with Bay. Except now that is.

Then his daddy tried to take him away, to somewhere far away and Mr. Dr. Roddy was coming with them because where they were going was supposed to make him better. "No, it won't. I need to find my feck and I know it's not there," he tried explaining, but only some of the grown-ups actually listened to what he said. "How could it be? I've never been there! _Zort!_"

When he found out he'd be going without Bay, he put up even more of a fuss. They never went anywhere without each other ever! It was unacceptable! And intolerant! "You're all intolerant!" he cried until they sat him down and showed him what was wrong. There was something wrong in his brain (not his Brain, his heart kept telling him, nothing was wrong with his Brain) and it needed to come out or bad things would happen. He thought of the two stones under the pretty globe flowers and roses in their garden when they said bad things. It was the look in his parents' eyes, even his happy mummy's, and he remembered saying a long time ago: "Oh, Brain, wouldn't it be fun to grow old together all over again?"

If he went to the fancy hospital, he asked if he would get better for sure. No one except Mr. Dr. Roddy would tell him the truth. Maybe.

After he agreed to go, he ran all through the castle and out into the garden and past the gates and to an old place that he'd never once been to before, but knew. Pinny stared down into the dark water, watching his reflection ripple. Tears trickled down his cheeks and plipped into the river. Maybe he'd find his feck. Only a maybe.

_Wouldn't it be fun to grow old together all over again?_

If they didn't, he would feel like the worst husband ever. It had been all his idea after all. They could've been happy. Happy watching their family. Happy loving it. But if the maybe wasn't a happy yes, then Bay would be alone. And Bay couldn't be alone.

"Why did you ponder it?" he asked the water, filling more with his tears.

The tall, lanky mouse in his reflection didn't say anything.

But the real, pink-eyed one standing on the bridge beside him did. "Come, Pinky."

"Right, Brain." The answer was automatic. Wet, blue gaze lifted to look at the love of his life and then his cheeks were cupped and the tears brushed away.

94. Building (264)

She'd only been trying to help. Brain's lawnmower just didn't look quite right, it had been missing a few little parts and wouldn't he be proud if she'd fixed them for him all by herself? Of course... she hadn't realized he wasn't building a lawnmower and that it was really a machine that magnetized things until it was in pieces on the counter.

Cici blinked at the mess, the wrench propped up over her shoulder as she surveyed the damage. A little gear rolled by her and she watched it until it spun in a circle and flattened by Brain's feet. No one could've missed the crash she'd instigated.

Lifting her gaze shyly, she smiled weakly at him despite the fury plain on his face. It was already past eight o'clock, already past her bedtime as well. Brain's gaze flicked to the wrench she held and the girl dropped it instantly, kicking it behind her as if she'd never had the thing to begin with. His brow furrowed further and her shoulders hunched up in an attempt to make herself smaller.

For a few minutes, neither said anything.

"Umm..." Cici finally piped up, hands clasped in front of her. "I was only trying to help...?"

Brain pointed at the cage, his expression never wavering, and the four-month-old sighed and started to slowly trod towards it. Until he gave her ear a flick and she gave a squeal-like gasp and dashed off like a bullet. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Brain set about picking up the mess and to prepare for tomorrow night.

95. Optimistic (423)

"Dear Mr. Hals-Timers... hello! First I would like to introduce myself. I'm Pinky! And I'm the husband of the best mouse ruler of the world ever! _Narf!_ Anyway, that is what I would like to talk to you about. Oh, not the world. Poit. My husband. You see, everyone keeps saying that Brain (that's my hubby) has you, Mr. Hals-Timers, but quite frankly, I think they've got it all mixed up. I think _you're_ the one who has Brain. Troz. Because I've never seen you around our castle, but I'm starting to see less of Brain everyday... I don't like that very much, Mr. Hals-Timers, as I'm sure you can understand if you had a husband or wife, so I would really app... apprec... hmm... Cici!"

His oldest daughter poked her head around from Brain's side of the library to look inside his. "What is it, mommy?"

"How do you spell 'appreciate'?" Pinky asked, hugging his over-sized pencil close, the scrawled piece of paper in front of him already filled with illegible scribbles and misspellings. "I can't find my special spell-checker anywhere... poit."

As patient and accepting as ever, Cici went to his side and told him how to spell it, even if he did it completely wrong anyway. "What are you writing, mommy?"

"A letter to Mr. Hals-Timers asking to give Brain back please," he told her matter-of-factly, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated really hard on the next sentence, so he missed how sad his baby snow mouse looked for a moment before she chased the clouds away.

"That's a great idea, I'm sure he doesn't get very many letters." She carefully picked her words, not wanting to dash her mommy-daddy's optimism, but not wanting to give him false hope either.

"I think he's lonely," Pinky agreed. "That's why he's taking Brain away, he only wants some company. And Brain is lovely company after all." He glanced up from his letter to smile reassuringly at her, like a mummy was supposed to. "Once he sees that Brain already has someone who really, really wants him, he'll have to give all those parts he took from him back. I mean, poit, you can't just take someone's husband away and not feel bad. It's intolerant."

Cici stroked his ear and nodded, determined to sit with him through the duration of the letter. When he was ready to send it off, she helped him address it and they handed it to Paul who would take care of it.

* * *

Next up: Thrilled, Dealing, Reflect, Embarrassment, Death


	20. 96, 97, 98, 99, 100

96. Thrilled (536)

She'd been learning to walk, but every time he let go of her little baby hands, Cici would wobble and promptly collapse on her rump. With hands to guide her, she did just fine, though Pinky did admit that he made her hop around for the most part. But she was a smarty mousey mouse. He was quite certain she'd master it soon!

Brain told him not to rush her, saying that he didn't want her getting underfoot and causing mayhem, but Pinky knew his grumpy-growly bestest friend just didn't want to admit that the baby snow mouse they found wasn't going to be a for real baby for much longer.

"Have fun with Auntie sister dear, baby!" he chirped, pressing a kiss to her forehead and watched her wibble-wobble where she sat. He and Brain weren't leaving yet, they were just getting started on the plan thingies, but he waved to the girl nonetheless, if only to watch her attempt to wave back. It was very cute when her whole arm went flappy-wappy like a snow cone.

The baby blinked after him, then was distracted by her aunt and all the toys they had to play with. Still, there were lulls in the entertainment that had her continuously looking over at the two mice. Brie would snap her fingers in front of the child's face and laugh as Cici swatted at her hand and smiled. When she went to get crayons for the two of them to color, the baby's attention immediately sought out the taller mouse.

Rolling forward onto her tummy, she pushed herself up onto two legs and held her arms out to keep the wobbling to a minimum. Slowly, she toddled over to where the mice she'd come to know as her parents stood hunched over something, falling only a couple times with a few hiccups. Her ears twitched as she heard her aunt's delighted gasp, but her focus was on getting somewhere and that somewhere needed to be got to.

She wanted the one who called himself her mommy and she tugged on his tail to tell him that. "Pa!"

Brain and Pinky both turned to look at her; a pair of pink eyes shocked while a pair of blue lit up with unbridled joy. "Oh, Cici! Look, Brain she walked all by herself!"

His tail wagged so hard it slipped out of her grasp and disrupted her balance. She waved her arms enough to keep from falling, then raised them up in a demand to be carried. "Mama."

Pinky didn't pick her up, he swept her up in a spinning dance and couldn't stop bouncing around the lab with his baby snow mousey mouse all smart and walking and knowing who he was! Brain allowed him his moment for about fifteen minutes, then set about scolding his sister for letting the child distract his companion so, rubbing his fist over his heart, convincing himself that his feelings were not hurt that the child wanted Pinky and not him. Children did become attached to their... mothers first, after all.

This was going to become a problem in keeping the distance he and Pinky had first agreed upon; he could already tell.

97. Dealing (1319)

"Pinky! You give that back right now! I am not playing with you!" Brain glared daggers at his cagemate and it was the first time in days they'd made eye contact. Pinky merely held the pencil high above his head, far out of Brain's reach. "I am going to count to _three_, and if you don't give it back by then, I swear I _will _separate you!"

"You can count all the way to Timbuktu, but I still won't give it back to you!" Pinky held his ground. He'd been trying to get Brain's attention for all this time, but he'd been so stubborn! "_Narf!_ Not until you tell me why you're mad at me!"

"I don't have to tell you anything! I don't have to explain myself to you!" he snapped, gesturing broadly with his arms as he tended to do when he was really super mad. "Give me the pencil!"

Pinky shook his head and hugged it tightly. "No!"

Growling and grinding his teeth together, Brain threw his hands in the air and spun around to stomp off. "Fine! There are plenty of other pencils! I'll simply replace it with another!"

Frantically, the taller mouse tossed the pencil off to the side and dove for his friend, wrapping his arms around his ankles. Wobbling dangerously, Brain managed not to fall on his face. He scowled down at Pinky, attempted to shake him loose, but he held tight. "I'm sorry! I don't know what I did, Brain, but I'm sorry!"

Of course he didn't know. Was there anything the fool knew? Smacking his palm to his face, he stiffened when he realized water was collecting behind his eyes. Curse the lacrimal gland! How dare it secrete moisture when he didn't want it to! "Don't you see, Pinky? That's exactly why I can't stand to look at you! You don't even care enough to realize it was wrong!"

"I do care!" he protested, belly sliding across the counter as Brain managed to stalk a few inches even while dragging the extra weight of his companion. "I care whole lots! Why do you think I'm trying so hard to make up with you?"

"Oh, I don't know, Pinky. I've given up trying to understand why you do anything," he grumbled, swallowing past the lump growing in his throat. He was over this. He didn't care. He didn't need Pinky and his promiscuity punching him in the gut countless times over. The image of him and her engaging in... vulgar acts of fecundity had already been burned into his eyelids. He saw them every time he closed his eyes. And every time he cared a little less. Or so he told himself.

"It's because I love you!"

Now he'd really had enough. Brain pried Pinky's hands from his ankle and gripped his shoulders hard, lifting him up to meet his gaze evenly. "Don't." He wouldn't be fed lies. Not from someone who didn't know the difference between volume and volume (_"Brain, there isn't any sound coming out of this beaker, I think you're doing it wrong."_).

Big blue eyes shimmered with... something Brain couldn't quite pinpoint, even this close together. "But..."

"Pinky, don't. Please, just... just this once, don't. I don't want to hear it."

"Oh... poit." His heart was beating really fast. Like hummingbirds. Only it hurt much more and didn't make him think of happy things. "Can I... can we still be friends, Brain?" he asked quietly. If Brain didn't love him, then that was alright. He couldn't make him love him if he really didn't want to, but he couldn't lose his bestest best friend. "Please be my friend still."

Ensnared by the sheer honesty, the desperation to stay connected to him, Brain could not fight the way those eyes made him fall. His grip growing lax, the tension and anger that writhed in his gut like vicious snakes easing, uncoiling and deserting him. He sighed, patting one of his companion's shoulders. "Clearly I'm still your friend, you imbecile. Despite your... promiscuity." There he'd said it. Maybe now they could go back to ignoring whatever spark had been there before and focus on the important things. Like the world, of course.

Except Pinky had to be an idiot. "What does ham have to do with anything, Brain?"

His brow creased and he shook him a little. "Promiscuity, Pinky! Not prosciutto!"

"Oh. Troz. Well, what's that then?" he asked, blinking at him, not minding at all that he was half on his knees, half dangling from Brain's hands fisted in his fur.

"It's..." Brain glanced skyward, as if for some kind of higher power to grant his assistance in this. It still hurt to think about, he didn't want to have to articulate it. "Having multiple partners in an intimate sense." When Pinky only continued to look blankly concerned, Brain continued, "It's like having more than one boyfriend or girlfriend. Kissing one person when you're pursuing another. That's promiscuity, Pinky."

The blank concern remained, though not because he didn't understand the meaning. "I've never done that, Brain."

The megalomaniac didn't know if he wanted to shake Pinky until his fur fell off or ram his own head into the nearest hard surface multiple times. "Yes you have! You were pursuing me! You were flirting with me! You fell in love with _me_! And then you went and kissed her!"

"Who?" Pinky was scandalized. He would never do such a thing! Not to Brain! "Brain, I didn't kiss anybody! Cross my _troz_ and hope to _narf_!"

"_Billie_! You kissed Billie, you incandescent bulb!" Brain shouted, his vision blurring. Dratted tears.

"No I didn't!" Shaking his head rapidly, Pinky's eyes filled from the accusation as well. "She kissed me, I didn't want it! I told her she wasn't a very good kisser and that I'd like if she never did it again with me, please!"

"What...?" It was Brain's turn to blink at his cagemate, mind frantically attempting to process the information. "You told her... _What_?"

Sniffling, Pinky kept his tears at bay as he repeated it for his poor, con-fused friend. "I told her she wasn't a very good kisser. And suggested she practice on someone not me. She didn't like that very much, but I really didn't want her to kiss me. Not even the first time. _Zort._ She knocked me down like a domino and made me hurt my hip and slobbered all over my face, Brain. But even if it had been a nice kiss, I wouldn't have wanted it. I only want to kiss you."

It was so ridiculous a notion, and the things Pinky had latched onto concerning the kiss... he wasn't making it up. He didn't have the sense to make up an excuse for something like that anyway. His too big, too loving heart wouldn't have let him either. Brain had been gazing so intently at him, he hadn't realized he'd brought his hands up from his shoulders to cup his friend's cheeks. "You only want to kiss me?"

Pinky's lashes fluttered and for a moment they could both hear the other's pittery-pattery pulse. "Of course, Brain. I only love you, so you're the only one I want to kiss." Almost shyly, he nuzzled the palm of the smaller mouse's hand. "I'm fine with you kissing me too. Just throwing that out there. Poit."

Relief bubbled up inside him, fast and dizzying. He was relieved, frustrated, amused, so stupid for not going to Pinky earlier. Of course he thought kissing and being kissed were different. Before he could stop himself, Brain rubbed his nose against his idiot's and stroked his cheeks. "Perhaps we could kiss each other. Does that work for you?"

"_Narf!_" Pinky agreed, tail wagging furiously. "Does that mean you love me too after all, Brain?"

Their kiss was his answer. As was their second and third, and all that followed.

98. Reflect (969)

"Yes! Pinky! Are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"I think so, Brain. But why do things die when they get old?"

Not one of his partner's typical inane nonsequitors, the question gave Brain pause and he turned to the not oft pensive blue-eyed mouse. Why would his sweet, happy husband be pondering something like that? "Well, Pinky... that... all things come to an end eventually. It's only natural for living things to start decaying once they've passed their prime- ah." His husband wasn't understanding a word. He didn't want to have to delve into a more... emotional concept for fear of his tears, but it was the best way to get through to Pinky and he was looking at him so expectantly, he couldn't brush the inquiry under the proverbial rug and have done with it.

He rubbed his hands together, gaze darting about for something to use as a learning implement. Salvation came in the form of, ironically, Pinky. "Is it like when cheese that tastes really good sits around a long time and then doesn't taste as good later? Poit."

"Yes, Pinky. Exactly." He jumped on it. He could handle talking about the "death" of cheese. It would work for his husband. "Cheese is born in the form of milk, and then at it's prime, it's cheese. But as you've noticed, Pinky, cheese doesn't stay like that forever. Eventually it molds and then goes away." He wasn't going to even broach the subject of decomposition with him. That was asking to be smacked in the face with a golf ball. "It dies. Because it physically can't be cheese any longer."

Pinky nodded and Brain sighed with relief. Good. Now that that was over they could begin his plan- "So things that are older die sooner? Like the cheese we got last Thursday will die before the cheese we got yesterday?"

The smaller mouse's brow furrowed. They'd gotten the cheese that day and the supposed "Thursday cheese" two days prior to that, but at least it registered that one came before the other. "Yes, Pinky. That's exactly what will happen."

When he received another nod, Brain waited a moment to see if there was a part three to this question. There was. "If a birthday comes before someone else's birthday, does that make them older?"

Brain smacked his palm to his face and rubbed. "_Yes_, Pinky. People and things that are born first are typically older. Good job." Because while it was obvious, it was Pinky.

"Oh, good!" Pinky clapped his hands together, smiling, and Brain looked at him with one ear and one eyebrow raised. The taller mouse took it upon himself to clarify. "My birthday's before your birthday, Brain! So I'm older so you won't die before me! _Narf!_ Isn't that wonderful?" He hugged himself tightly and laughed, only stopping when he noticed that his chubby hubby was staring at him with his jaw dropped. "Brain, you're not smiling. Do you need instructions?" Sometimes he wondered about that, Brain's smiles were often silly and not quite right, but he loved them anyway.

Brain's mouth started making a bunch of funny noises as he tried the say something, then he finally shook his head and glared at him. "_Wonderful_? Pinky, how in the world is that supposed to be wonderful? You dying before is quite possibly the farthest thing from wonderful that I can imagine!" It took a moment to catch up with him, but once the thought was there, he had to grip his heart to keep it from beating right out of his chest and he sat down. Dying. Of course it happened, but such a thing didn't happen to Pinky.

"But Brain," Pinky sat down right across from him, "then I don't have to be all by myself like if you died first." He saw it on Purple's Anatomy, all sorts of marrieds coming in and having to be alone after their husband or wife died. It was a lot of older people in the episode he saw, and it was even sadder when the old person had to say goodbye to his old wife and then be all lonely and alone after.

"So what? _I _get to be alone instead? Oh, yes, _wonderful_." Brain folded his arms and forcibly looked away, trying to be angry, trying to be furious that Pinky would even bring this subject up, but he couldn't and in the end he only looked away so his ridiculous husband wouldn't see the tears gathering in his eyes.

"Oh... I didn't think of it like that." Pinky folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. Oh, he wouldn't want Brain to be all sad and alone and lonely either.

"Do you think I wouldn't care as much? Is that it? That I don't love you as much as you love me? That's completely absurd! Don't you dare think that I don't care as much! You are not going before me, Pinky! I simply won't allow it!" Brain would've continued ranting, but he was enveloped in warm, loving arms and nuzzled until the tears subsided.

"'Kay," Pinky agreed easily.

The megalomaniac blinked, clinging to his chest, feeling the fur, the heartbeat, the life in his lover. "But you said you didn't want to be alone after..."

"I don't. Troz. But I don't want you to be alone after either," he pointed out, kissing the top of his chubby round head. "So we'll just have to go together!"

Simple, simple fool... Brain sighed and slumped in his embrace. "Going together sounds... wonderful, Pinky..."

"I thought so, Brain."

"Idiot." He cupped his cheeks and drew him in for a kiss, consoling himself with the fact that they wouldn't have to reflect on the inevitable again for a very, very long time.

99. Embarrassment (370)

It was during a game of Chase Me. Pinky had snatched up a crucial part of the blueprint he was working on and refused to give it back, even after Brain had tackled him and the pair rolled about like hooligans. Were it not his plans in danger of being slobbered all over, he would have been embarrassed enough to leave the other mouse be and cease their "playing". It was completely childish to be carrying on the way they were, but he needed those plans back.

Pinky oftentimes didn't have the sense to be embarrassed. Bashful, maybe. Gushy, always. But true embarrassment was rarely felt by the inane creature. Brain partially envied him as well as partially thanked the powers that be that he didn't live in such a state. Embarrassment, mortification, it kept one in check. It prevented unnecessary acts of pure emotion or ridiculous behavior. Such as rolling about on the counter like fools.

Then Brain finally had him pinned, having utilized his knowledge of his cagemate's most sensitive spots and mercilessly tickled him into submission. He caught both of Pinky's wrists in one hand as he straddled the lanky mouse's waist, the upper hand completely his. But as he smirked in triumph at besting his taller friend, he was surprised to see that Pinky's cheeks had filled with color and his blue eyes averted their gaze. He was panting heavily, both from the exertion of playing and laughing so hard, so Brain considered perhaps the flushed cheeks were from exhaustion or part of his natural glow, but the way his lips pursed and he refused to look him in the eye spoke volumes.

Pinky was embarrassed. From what exactly, he didn't know. He never got the chance to ask. His paper had been returned to him immediately, crumpled and slightly drooled on of course, so he released his companion and watched with a quirked brow as Pinky's blush refused to fade under his scrutiny and continued to return each time their eyes met for the rest of the night. Strange creature.

Even stranger was the bizarre urge to cup those burning cheeks and force his gaze to remain on him and only him. Hm.

100. Death (292)

Sometimes Brain lost his way and left. But Pinky always followed.

That was what had happened, he decided. They'd had such a happy life, the whole world, their children, their grandchildren, their whole family... Brain probably just didn't know what to do with himself when he had nothing to complain about. He was his grumpy-growly-scowly hubby for a reason.

At first, Pinky waited. Going after him right away didn't always work. His husband was stubborn, but delicate, and giving him time to think and collect all his biggly-wiggly thoughts would only help him in the long run. Even if Pinky missed him terribly while he was away. The food didn't taste as good, the castle was messier, the gummy bear hall wasn't as colorful...

The bed was cold.

"Mommy? Are you sure you're okay?" Cici would ask him with wet eyes everyday. Brain didn't leave as much once their baby snow mouse came around, she wasn't as used to it.

"Oh, Cici, I'm alright," he assured her with a smile, bouncing little Rosie on his lap. Her eyes always said more than she did, and she was asking where grandpa had gone. "Brain will be back soon."

"Mommy..." But she said nothing else and let him hold Rosie as much as he wanted. It made him happy to hold her and he was getting thinner.

It only took a few more days before Pinky set off to find his husband. Surely now the smaller mouse could remember that they were supposed to be together for always.

"_Where Brain goes, I go!"_

He'd said that the day they were married for real. Funny that he remember that now. Not that he'd ever really forgotten.

Sometimes Brain lost his way and left.

But Pinky always followed.

* * *

The last round!

Well, I must say, doing this 100 challenge and finishing it was all kinds of exciting and totally awesome.

Success.

Death takes place in an alternate universe where they die at different times and Tears is what provoked StarShineDC's "Dealing" in her 100 Feels  
Read all her things, they are gah-lorious!

OH! And my Dealing xDDD My Dealing is the conclusion of Confused and Knife from my earlier segments. Go back and read those and then read Dealing again if you can, it might make more sense xD

And I believe that's all folks!


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